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Digitized by tlie Internet Arciiive 
in 2011 witii funding from 
Tine Library of Congress 



littp://www.arcliive.org/details/lyricsOOtapp 





PHI L ABE LPH I A , 



6 







H^> 



Tnis book consists, in part, of pieces 
written since the publication of my Poems 
the last Spring; the remainder are select- 
ed from a yoliime of my early metricals 
piiblisJied two years since^ of which the 
edition is no\¥ exhausted. 

September^ 1822. 



wwmEm<. 



To THEE, dear Vision! Genius of the lyre! 
Thou blest Invisible, that fancy doth inspire, 
Thou fair Unknown, that oft celestially. 
Hath cheered this bosom witli thy minstrelsy ; 
To thee, that reckless iov'st to roam among 
Elysian groves and carol Pleasure's song. 
Soothing attendant of my lonely hours. 
That oft on tears hath scattered balmy flowers 5 
To thee I wake the tributary lay. 
And o'er thy fairy haunts, with lingering step 
would stray. 

Thou knowest how sweet, how ever dear to me, 
The hallowed moments, given to bliss and thee^ 
How oft, when worn with toil, or vexed with care. 
To thee I've flown and found a solace there. 
When converse charmed not, mirth no smile could 

lend. 
When lone affection felt without a friend. 
In thy soft murmurs have I sought relief. 
Then care seemed baseless, all disquiet brief: 

A 



The minstrel woke and inspiration stole, 
With wavy breathing o'er his trembling soulj 
Memory would stray o^er bowers to childhood known^ 
And still would smile and sigh o^er visions once its 
own. 

Fancy with thee, would climb the sacred hill, 
Seek Sharon's shade,— by sv/eet Siloa*B rill 
Would ponder lone and from the Jioly tomb, 
Pluck the wild flower that buds in living bloom. 

Thanks dear Inspirer! love is well thy due; 
'Tis all I have — -'tis much, for O 'tis true; 
A lowly meed, a humble lot is mine. 
Though still I offer at Contentment's shrine; 
And this is all— I would not avarice' spoil. 
While thou remainest, sweet nymph ! companion of 
my toil. 



I liOii^G had loved thee, thou wast dearer far 

Than all mortality beside could boast; 

My pride, my glory, thou, my chosen star. 

I loved thee well, but I do love thee most 

Since the sad time, that sickness writhed this frame; 

For well do I remember all the care 



Which, gathering round thee, clou^ ng 

hrow, 
The wliile tliou lean'dst o^er me, wi^ same 

Of tenderness, that first taiiglit m 
At goodness' shrine, a willing vr . mere. 
A wife — what tie, love! can witli this compare. 
Best of God's gifts ! — where all of loveliness 
Is given, to soothe the sojourner below? 
O, hard his passage through life's wilderness 
Who knows not Woman to assuage his wo ! 

I long had loved thee, and in early hours 
Thy image came along with beauty blended 5 
Then Pleasure beckoned me unto her bowers. 
While all of sunshine on my steps attended. 
Dearest! I sought thee in youth's halcyon day. 
Yet more I prize thee, now the mellow ray 
Of calm enjoyment, gently steals along, 
Gilding with sober tint, our humble w ay. 
Remote from all the bustle of the throng, 
Our home is in each other, and the din 
Of pomp and splendour, love ! we shall not heed ; 
The world is not for us^ and those within 
Who seek their aliment, are rich indeed; 
To us is given the soul soothing song 
And love to bless, — we ask no other meed. 



Though fond of retrospect, and I confess 
That on the past I've gaz'd with dear delight, 



8 



And, much reviev/ing, marked new cause to bless 

Heaven and thee, love! yet with fonder ken 

Tl)oiight glances onward to the coming night. 

The softly stealing night of being, when 

We two shall downivard tread the narrow vale 

Which sJiadows forth into Eternity, — 

The pathway fraught with Eden's primal balm. 

Leading to heights of peace, where travellers see- 

The lightning fork below, but feel no harm; 

And hear the tempest rave, no storms can them aS' 

sail. 
While hand in hand we journey on, how sweet 
The converse of departed hours ! the tale 
Of other days will ^guile our pilgrim feet» 



Before me lies the troublous deep. 
Lifers ocean, tost by many a storm j 
Behind me, hushed, the billows sleep. 
Whose calm, wild winds no more deform. 

I tempted childhood's laughing wave 
And reckless toyed with danger nigh^ 
I trod upon the gaping grave 
And smiled at fear^ yet knew not why* 



In youth I sought a brighter path, 
Yet paused to gaze at childhood^s beam; 
Fled was tlie angry lightning's scathe. 
For peaceful is love's early dream. 

What dangers press on manhood's prow! 
His barque is tost by every gale, 
The shoals of folly thicken now. 
And perils rise, and cares assail; — 

Yet manhood past, how slight appear 
The terrors strown on manhood's way. 
Night's cowering phantoms disappear, 
And broad and brightly shines the day! 

Before me lies the troublous deep. 
The sea which angry waves deform, 
Yet Faith shall bid the billow sleep. 
And Hope shall soar above the storm. 



Lady! while gaily opes on you 
The w^orld's alluring witching smile ; 
While flowers of every form and hue 
Spring forth^ your pathway to beguile,— 

2 A 



10 



O Lady, in the bursting dawn 
Of hope, iTiay real bliss be seen. 
May bland contentment gild your morii- 
And peace be yours at fond Sixteen. 

Life's but a flower, how frail the bloom! 
It charms without, within is there 
The worm that's nourished to consume,. 
The foe of beauty, baneful care : 
Far from your bosom be the cares 
That lurk with cold forbidding mie». 
And, O kind heaven, avert the snares 
Which folly spreads for gay Sixteen* 



Though cloudless suns for thee may rise^ 
And bright the joys that for thee shine; 
O who may tell these beauteous skies. 
These cloudless suns shall long be thine? 
Yet long may these your day illume. 
And may no storms, with rigour keen. 
Assail the flower that loves to bloom 
On the fair cheek of sweet Sixteen^ 

The fairy form must lose its grace. 
The speaking eye must know decay. 
Time will each youthful charm efface^ 

As evening's robe obscures the day; 
Yet while meek candour loves to dwell 

'iliose lips upon, and truth is seen^ 



it 



Lady, these graces long shall tell 

The fadeless charms of bright Sixteeiv. 

Affection cheers our pathway wild. 

Yet oft it dies, alas! how soon, — 

The star that on Love's morning smiled, 

Shines coldly on its dying noon; 

Yet Lady ! while the chaste caress 

Of friendship soothes life's sorrows keen, 

may affection richly bless 

Your path, when fied is gay Sixteen. 



I SAW the Evangelist of God ascend 

The holy place. He stood in the beauty 

Of meekness — He spake, and on my heart 

Fell accents glowing with the prophet's fire. 

I heard thee, mighty one! and was afraid. 

Yea, trembling, listened; for methought no voice 

Of mortal mould could thrill my bosom thus. 

0, sweet as angePs music were the tones 

Which breathed their Gilead on the wounded heart; 

Strengthened the weary, — bade the broken come 

To Siloa's fountain and in faith be whole. 



1£ 



I wept o^er bligbted hopes.— -but tlioii didst draw, 
A willing captive^ my admiring soul 
With thee, to brighter regions, where the dream 
Of full fruition lives, nor is unreaL 

I feared Death,— but thou did^st deck the foe 
In lovely garb; with softest beauty clad, 
I saw him beckoning to the narrow house 
Of rest, where spicy odours balm the air^ 
And resurrection's halo crov^ns the dead, 

God speed thee, favoured one ! thy diadem, 
^Tis wreathed of gentleness, is thick bestrown 
With pearls of nature's forming — they are tears^ . 
Yea, tears of rapture, holy, and untold. 



My coukt:rt! nations proudly say. 
And long be heard the story,— 
That thou hast risen, the gem of Day, 
The favourite star of glory ; — 
And inspiration lends its voice. 
And Time, his veil withholding, 
■Bids thee, his cherished one, rejoice. 
Futurity beholding* 



1 



The flood of years shall pass, yet lives 
Untouched, thy page recorded ; 
Yea, Ages' pyramid revives 
The meed to tliee awarded. 
Since pilgrim sires pursued their way 
Across the trackless ocean. 
Escaped from persecution's sway 
And bigotry's commotion ; 

Since spirit Freedom hither fled 
From regions, where none sought her — - 
Her native mountains strewed with dead 
Her vales the bed of slaughter — 
Thou in the plenitude of fame, 
Majestic hath ascended^ 
x\nd clustering round thy deathless name 
Are strength and beauty blended* 

In contest, the victorious thoiij, 

On tented field or ocean; 

In peace, the queen whose laurelled brow 

Claims and receives devotion. 

When Freedom fires the bosom, can 

Its resolution falter ? 

Never ! for here regenerate man 

Rears to his God an altar. 

My country ! lives there, can there be^ 
O'er worth like thine yet glowing^- 



14 



A soul not thrilled to ecstacy, 

A heart not overSowing ?— 

If vSiich — from him, the recreant slaye, 

Let hope her heaven sever. 

For him oblivion ope its grave 

With resurrection never« 

Hail to thee, home of Liberty ! 

Thy sons, thy glory sharing. 

From toils reposing, find in tliee 

The fruits of noble daring ; 

And when, like autumn fruit, our sii*ts 

Have with the valley blended. 

Be ours the never dying fires 

Which on their sh.rines descended. 



The dawn hath broke on Solyrna, 
Yet in her street sits wan despair | 
Her temple greets the early ray. 
The voice of gladness is not tliere.— 
Gone forth is the accursed decree; 
Blush Sun ! and hide each starry gem,* 
For He who claimed your sovereignty 
Wears b<ow the thornv diadem. 



15 

Bid not from yonder battlement. 
The iiigli archafigei bend to weep. 
When crashed vrith toil, witli sorrow spent, 
Immanuel trodc the painful steep? 
AVas tJicre not anguisli knov/n above. 
Say ye that stand before the throne. 
When He, whose emy throb v/as love. 
By man rejected, wept alone? 
Divine Example! let me be 
Patiente when darkling cares invade; 
Resigned, when earthly biesqings See, 
And gratefdl while enjoyment:^ fade. 
Thou wast rejected !~Son of God, 
Near to the Highest is thy seat;— 
T'is ours to cross life's stormy flood, 
Give us a place beneath thy feet 



THE RETURN. 

The twilight had fled and the night-lamp alone. 
Illumined the forest and mellowed the shade. 
The song of the cushat and whip-o'-wilFs moan 
Was over and solitude reigned in the glade; 
Naught was seen save the meteor that speckled the 



loam, 



16 



And the pale starry brilliants that studded the sky, 

Naught was heard save the yell where the forest- 
kings roam. 

The moan-breeze and hoarse murmuring break of 
the foam, 

As the barque o^er its snow mantled breast seemed 
tofly- 

*Twas the hour of the heart, to memory dear, 
When fancy, lone wanderer, to the past doth return | 
^Twas sacred to sadness which hallowed the tear. 
As it lingered overjoys that affection would mourn | 
The Boatman absorbed, on the motionless oar. 
Recollection indulging, had gently reclined, 
The oft-wounded billow resounded no more. 
Forgotten the barque and the rock-delving shore. 
For home and its treasures arose on his mind ! 

From home long a wanderer, he'd traversed the main. 
And far had the Boatman from happiness strayed. 
But now to the woodland returning again. 
The fond smile of hope o^er his rapt vision played^ 
And he thought of the cottage that rose in the dell. 
And he thought of the hours that childhood knew 

there, 
And with rapture he thought — but the full bosom's 

swell. 
With emotion forbade what affection might tell; 
The maiden whose glance could beguik every care^ 



ir 



Aiul in fancy tlie valley tliat borders the stream, 
To his view seemed as gay, and as sweet shone the stai' 
As the evening when chaste with a tremulous gleam. 
It played o'er the billow and mantled afar, 
AYlien lie clasped the true maid to the heart that re- 
vealed 
Its affection sincere by the soft heaving sigh. 
While she whispered, " we part! but may He be thy 

shield, 
Who alike on the wave and the red battle field. 
To the wanderer forlorn with protection is nigh/'' 

O, sweet are the joys that from innocence flow^ 

And pure is the bliss which affection endears, 

If sorrow is nigh 'tis the gilead of wo, 

And the wild-flower of love beams brightest through 

tears ; 
O Boatman awake! for thy perils are o*er, 
The morn hath illumined the sea's wavy breast, — 
The barque gently grates on the yellow sand shore^ 
The valley appears — see ! the loved cottage door. 
In the arms of affection the wanderer is blest. 



When cold in the dust sleeps this bosom of clay^ 
And the captive enlarged wanders lightly and free 
While it treads the expanse of eternity, say. 
Will it then be a stranger to love and to thee? 



18 



0, shall the pure flame which was kindled below^ 
From the spark that still burns on the altar above^ 
Be quenched in the clime where each breast feels its 

glow, 
Where each harp w akes the theme, and the choral is 

love? 

Ah no! in those regions of light and of joy. 
Recollection returning, will friendship prolong; 
We shall know as we're known, and its converse enjoy. 
As we join in the cordon, and mingle the song. 

Unclothed with the frailties that fettered us here. 
Each scene of past anguish forgot by us then — 
The cloud that has hovered, will there disappear, 
And the sunshine it veiled will illumine again. 

Freed alike from each sorrow that reigned in the 

breast. 
And the bliss that shone dimly or sparkled on care; 
The revealings of joy will but quicken its zest. 
Immortality seal what it ne^er can impair] 



. SONG OF THE MARINER^ 

We go down on the face of the waters, the Sea^ 
The bankless^ the fathomless world, is ours; 



19 



But though on the wings of the morning we flec^ 
Can we hide from the ken of Him, whose decree 
Is heard on the main when the niglit-storm lowers? 



We go down on the face of the waters, there 
Unimaginable, dreadful secrets are known 5 
^Tis ours to dwell in the lightning's glare, 
^Tis ours to be rocked by the wave of despair : 
God holds the deep, His ways are unknown. 

We go down on the face of the waters, tell — 
Tell, is the God of the billows the same 
Ye worship, who thunders, and who can dispel 
With a smile the evil — whose doings are well ? 
If thus, we his servants will call on his name. 

We go down on the face of the waters, say 
Is there place for the mariner, an altar for him. 
To render oblations of sacrifice? — may 
The dweller in ships to Jeliovah pray, 
When the heart is melted and the eye is dim ? 



We adore one Omnipotent, wliose will hath spread* 

Sprinkled with gems, yon canopy; 

In whose hands are the ashes of the dead, 

Whose majesty lightens ocean^s bed; 

Where the contrite is^ Omnipresence will be. 



£0 



Then ye who assemble in temples of hands^^ 
Forget not, forget not the mariner far; 
When borne by the billow to distant lands. 
In perils, benighted on temptation^s sands, 
Deliver him, Master— shine Bethiehem's star ! 



22d FEBRUARY. 

Ye consecrate^ my countrymen, the Day 
That gave a patriot to the world--- 
That bade truth shine with ever living ray^ 
That saw its foes to ruin hurled : 



Rejoice! the Spirits of the mighty Dead^ 
Bending from bliss, bid you ^^ rejoice;'' 
The awful shades of those that fought and bled^ 
Require this day the heart and voice. 

Tell ye their deeds and bid your ojffspring know^ 
When from her mountain freedom calls. 
The warrior deems him blest who meets the foe^ 
And more than recompensed who falls. 

Pledge ye the bowl, to those that lowly sleep^ 
Where wild flowers deck the soldier's grave; 



21 



To those that pillow on the foaming deep 
Pledge ye the bowl — ^tis to the brave! 

Go, breathe His Name, that name beloved so well 
Go tell his worth to virtue dear; — 
Let every heart with generous feeling swell, 
Let each in silence give the tear. 



THE ALBION. 



The Xew-York packet ship Aibion, captain Williams, on her 

PASSAGE TO LiVEEPOOL, WAS LOST IN A STORM ON THE IrISH CoAST 
OFF GaRRETSTOWN, NEAR THE OlB PoINT OF KiNSALE, ON THE 22d 

OF April, 1822, and all on board, with the exception of nine, 
WERE LOST. She sailed from New-York, on the first oi? 
April, with a crew of 24 men, and 28 passengers. 



The storm is weathered, and the fiend Despair, 
Who the long weary day stood sullen by, 
Hath fledo And now is heard the frequent prayer 
From grateful altars wafted ; in each eye 
Hope lights her beacon, — busy fancy now 
Sketches fond scenes of bliss, for port is near; — 
The proud ship cleaves the foam with steady prow", 
The sea-boy vsings of home, by peril made more dear« 

2 B 



m 



^Tis deathly slumber^ sure, not calm repose,— 
The sleep of agony hath seized them ; why 
Else this deep lethargy? 0, can ye close 
Your lids, when Desolation marches by? 
Of quiet dream, when horror waits ye soon? — 
Waken, ye tempest tost! Wherefore?— the wave. 
Whose altitude mocks heaven, rolling on, 
Will soon receive ye,~ready is your coral grave. 

The morning smiles, the breeze is fraught with balm^ 
Hibernia seems freshly from the main . 

To spring, beauteous and young. Nature is calme— ^ 
Far, far, unruffled, spreads the billowy plain, 
God^s handy work, the world of waters, where 

The elements disport, and He is seen 
In strength pavilioned, on His cloudy car. 
Riding the wild night storm, and humbling this ter- 
rene. 

The morning smiles, the ocean billow sleeps, — • 
But where the tall ship that late ploughed its breast^ 
The gallant Ai^bioh"?— Pity, shuddering weeps; — • 
No more,— only, that on the dark wave^'s crest 
That night, at times, were dimly seen, ^tis said. 
Some forms of misery, whose hands in vain 
Were lift imploring,~they sank with the dead, — 
And piteous cries and shrieks were heard,~^twas 



still again, 



S^ V^ '"Tv ■v'? ^? ^?" 



23 



Yet Thou,^ the ehild of feeling, slialt receive 
The tribute of warm tears. Around thy name 
Mercy will twine her never-fading wreath. 
Fairer than trophies won by heirs of fame. 
Thou gav'st what ocean had denied, a shroud^ 
With rights of sepulture. I am yet proud 
Of mankind, for thy sake, God's benizon 
On thee ! — the deed shall live when thy sand, too. 
hath run. 



Those eyes that beam so beauteous bright. 
And all the heaven within declare, 
May set, ere long, in starless night 
Or kindle with demoniac glare. 

The thrilling voice, oft heard to bless, 
Vfliose accents memory would prolong. 
May tell the story of distress, 
Or warble sorrow^s broken song. 

That heart where feeling holds its throne, 
Which fondly beats to love and me. 
Cold as the unsunned marble stone. 
May lie in frigid apathy, 

* Jacob Mauk, Esq. U. S. Consul at Kinsalc. 



24 

Lord of all good ! thy fiat spake 
To birth, the blessings that I have;— 
Lord of all worlds! ^tis thou canst take 
Again, the boon that mercy gave : 

Take all, but hear my earnest prayer, 
^Tis breathed in tears, reject it not, — 
Take all- — but let me never share 
The hopeless, soulless Maniac's lot. 



DEATH OF STARK. 

He died, — he fell in the winter of years, 

On the couch of the tomb he hath pillowed his head 

And fled hath sorrow, and fled have fears. 

For sorrow and fears dwell not with the dead. 

On the green hill-side they made his grave, 
There the oak, the tree of his country grows ; 
His bed is holy — 'tis the bed of the brave. 
His slumber is calm — 'tis the warrior's repose. 

And sweet be thy visions, thy slumbers profound, 
And bright be the halo that circles thy brow; 
In the thickest of battle thy place was found. 
The wreath is deathless that decks thee now. 



25 

To thy country, the prime of thy manhood was given;> 
'Mid the foremost thy shining sword was drawn; 
Thou stood'st a pillar — approving Ileaveu 
Beheld, and put the foe to scorn. 

When the palsy of years had scathed thy form. 
And thy head was crowned with tlie snow of age^ 
Wlien Poverty came, thou met* st the storm, 
And in greatness of soul defied its rage. 

The traveller sought thy desolate cot. 

And he wept o'er the \vTeck of valour there ; 

The fire of youth had left thee not, 

Thy country, thy idol, was still thy prayer. 

Adieu to the dead! — the spirits of those 
Who soared on the battle, see! they vanish away; 
Tlie warriors have gone to the land of repose. 
Our fathers, our fathers! — 0^ where are they? 



Why do I love thee? 

Maiden, will you tell- 
Why hast thou round me 

Fastened thy spell ? 



26 

Is it thy fairy form^ 

Graceful and gay? 
Is it thy jet locks^ 

Where light Sylphs play? 

Is it thy dark eye^ 

Bright as Gazelle^, 
Is it the bosom sigh, 

When fond thoughts dwell 
No! the sigh believing, 

Too late finds the youth, 
That love is deceiving, 

That vows are untruth. 



The fairy form it is not. 

Graceful and gay; 
The jet locks it is not. 

Where light Sylphs play^ 
The glance it may not be 

From eyes deemed divine, 
Though orbs I may not see 

Brighter than thine. 

But maiden, thy bosom ^tis 
Where truth is throned Queen^ 

Where attendant, the graces, 
Are with modesty seen | 



1 



27 



^Tis thy heart, dear Enchantress! 

So yielding, yet true — 
It witchery of tenderness 

Binds me to you. 



Darkly o'er tliee, Palestine! 
Hangs the mystic veil of nighty 
Land of Shinar ! grief is thine, 
Quenched the glory of thy light,—- 
Where is now the promise given 
To thy Sires of ancient day? 
Where! where! the lamp of heaven. 
To direct the wanderer^s way ? 

Ye who, favoured, saw Him, tell 
Of His mien, heyond compare; 
Ye who marked Him when he fell. 
Say, was not the Godhead there? 
Yet he writhed beneath the rod — 
Anguish sat upon his hrow — 
Men have triumphed in his blood. 
And the marble holds him now. 

Wherefore then the golden beam. 
Springing up the eastern sky; 
Bright, yet soft as morning's dream, 
When night's empire passes by ? 



28 



Wherefore then the choral hymii^ 
Floating on the wavy air— ■ 
Why hath op'd the marble tomb? 
Jesus sleeps no longer there! 

He hath risen — crushed his power— 
Lo ! in dost the arch-fiend lies ; 
He hath risen — glorious hour! 
We who sleep in Him shall rise| 
Welcome death ! each sorrow closing. 
Now thy features smiles do wear| 
Welcome grave ! to flesh reposing? 
Jesus is the victor there* 



MoxocH had falFn and Satan wept 

To see his shrines alone 5 

His rites in dark oblivion slept 

And worshipless his throne. 

Around him thronged the peers of hell 

Intent on curst debate. 

Yet naught could Satan^s ire dispel 

Or sooth the monarches hate ; — 

'^Till Belial, a tall fiend, arose. 
And urged his fell design, — 
And triumph, Chief! he said, thy foes 
Shall own a mightier shrine j 



29 



What though the vale of Hinnom boasts 
No more its thousands dead. 
Or Topheth sees no more its hosts 
Through fire and slaughter led : 

On Moloch's ruin, lo ! appears 

A new descended god, 

Whose robe is gemmed with Orphan^s tears, 

Whose sceptre reeks with blood ; 

xiltars shall rise in every clime 

To this divinity. 

And as he hastens, hoary Time 

Shall untold votaries see. 

lie spake; — with shouts the conclave rang, 

Hell trembled with acclaim; 

A god, a god descends they sang, 

Let HojiTouR be his name! 

Columbia, willing, owns his sway^ 

And for her Proud and Brave, 

He digs, impatient for his prey, 

The Duellist's cold grave. 



1 FAIN would know if she who lately fled 
Far from this dream of sad reality. 
Whose mortal shroud, inurned with the dead^, 
Recks not of that which quaffs eternity^ — 



30 

I fain would know whether the happy one. 
Forgetting self, in retrospection's glance 
Returns not fondly to the scenes well known. 
And quits its heaven awhile, to enjoy the pleasing 
trance. 

For when the spirit, borne on wings of bliss. 

Seeks the glad confines of empyrion sky. 

Some tender fibre binds her yet to this 

Dear spot,~somewhat of earth she bears on high| 

The object, here beloved, is loved in heaven, 

The graces that have charmed once, fade not there ^ 

To her, to sooth the sojourner ^tis given, 

And they who stay to weep, are the departed^s care. 

For something whispered, when I saw her die, 

^^ Thy friend departs not, — she will hover near,^'— 

Yes, and the smile that lingered in that eye. 
Assured this heart she would its anguish cheer | 
And I believe, for while at night I wept 
Affection's tribute to affection gone. 
And fancy sadly hovered where she slept. 
And widowed tears dropt on the cold moist stone j 

Methought some presence, — sure it was my love! 
Unseen, -breathed gilead on my festering smart| 
Unheard, spake consolation to my soul,— 
Upon my grief poured solace of above. 
And bidding him, once broken, to be whole, 
Left Resi a nation in my wounded heart. 



31 
OCCASIONAL. 

WniTTEN FOn A SUNDAY SCHOOL ASSOCTATIOX. 

Could angel clioirs demand of earth 
A theme to gratulate the throne. 
Nobler than young creation's birtli, 
Sweeter than heaven's ^yide vault hath known,- 
Could the redeemed lay by tlieir palms. 
And cast their glittering honours down ; 
To take a robe of lovelier charms. 
To w^ear a brighter, fairer crown: 

The tlieme is found — 'tis charity; 
^Tis charity, Jehovah's theme! 
The robe is v/ovc— eternity . 
Shall brighten and reflect its beam; 
Blest is the man, whose mite is given, 
To feed God'a poop - tkougli fimall the boon 
Shall his rew ard be lost ? — yon heaven 
With heaven's tall throne shall sink as soon. 

Yet more exalted he, who shares 
The umvearied teacher's holy toil, 
Who plants the seed, whose daily prayers, 
Whose midnight tears refresh the soil; 
Yea, higher shall his seat be found. 
Who makes these chosen Iambs his care; 
Richer the gems that gird him round, 
The tear of pity will be there. 



32 



TO THE SENSITIVE PLANT, 

Thou lovely blushing flower! 

in sweets arrayed — 
Queen of a short lived hour* 

Why thus afraid? 

Emblem of modesty^ 

Thou shrink^ st with dread | 
When we but gaze on thee^ 

Thou hid'st thy head. 

Type of the cultured mind. 

With feeling blest; 
Thou fliest the touch unkindj^ 

Rudely imprest. 

Longing for added life^ 

Dost thou not know 
*Tis but a scene of strife— 

A dream of wo? 

Content thee^ floweret! few 

Are boasted years j 
And frequent as thy dew^ 

Are youthful tears. 



33 



Like thee, with morn we smile, 
And pleasure hreathe^ 

But languid, droop crewhile. 
And weep at eA e. 

Yet with new impulse strong, 

May I from tliee 
Learn to aspire, and long 

For immortality. 



THE LAST VETERAN OF THE REVOLUTION. 

I SAW the hoary warrior chief. 
Whose sternly proud, hut hlighted form, 
Proclaimed him worn with hitter grief. 
An oak amid the pelting storm. 

Of those whose crimson tide emhrued 
The fields where Albion's glory fell; 
Of those who oft undaunted stood. 
When cannons pealed the hero^s knell — 

He was the last — the only head 

Was his, that waved with wintry hloom; 

Surviving all, for all had sped^ 

They slept in honour's laurelled tomb. 

£ c 



34 



He gazed— alas! he gazed in vain^ 
To meet the comrades of his toil^ 
Copatriots on the gory plain. 
Companions in the victor spoiL 

All, all around was sad and drear. 
And naught could grief of years beguile | 
For him, condolence had no tear. 
For him, affection wore no smile. 

I saw — and lo! the warrior slept; 

The war-worn veteran joined the brave; 

The Genius of Columbia v/ept. 

And freedom's wreath bedecked his grave. 



TO A LILY HALF BLOWN, 

Lovely blossom! welcome here, 
Floweret that I love so well ; 
Fairest of the gay parterre, 
Lily of the silver bell! 

In the low sequestered dale. 
Sheltered from the mountain storm. 
Sweetest of the sylvan vale. 
Spring unfolds thy slender form. 



35 



Dearer far thy virgin liuCj, 
Shrinking from the gaze of light. 
Than the rose whicli loves to sliew. 
Conscious beauties to the sight. 

In retirement still concealed. 
Type of modesty art thou ; 
To the graces half revealed. 
We, delighted, willing bow. 

Bloom, bloom, thou lovely flower! 
Fairest of the laughing dell; 
Queen of Flora's native bower, 
Lily of the silver bell ! 



Home of my youth ! with fond delight. 
On thee doth recollection dwell; 
Home of my youth! how gaily bright, 
The scenes that childhood loved so well, 

Cot of my fathers ! well I know. 
The spot that saw my infant dawn ; 
Near the green lane, the old elm row— 
The village spire — the grassy lawn. 



36 



0! sweet to me the laughing hours, 
When earth seeoied gay, and heaven was fair; 
When fancy culled her thornless flowers. 
And pleasure reigned, unknown to care. 

Home of my youth ! this heart away, 
Recals those moments dear to me; 
Often in dreams will memory stray, 
Home of my youth— to weep o^er thee. 



THE MOTHER'S PRAYER. 

There is a strain whose soothing charm, 

Unknown to fancy's ear. 

Breathes o'er the soul a sacred balm. 

And angels bend to hear; 

'Tis when with meekly lifted eye. 

That beams parental care, 

With humble faith, and hallowed sigh. 

Ascends the Mother's Prayer ! 

When childhood treads its devious way. 
With thorny flowerets strewed; 
When youtli with folly loves Jo stray, 
A stranger still to God;— 



To Him, the source of sure relief. 
The suppliant dotli repair ^ 
She casts on Him her secret grief, 
Who hears the Mother's Prayer ! 

In manhootPs prime the anxious heart. 

Attends tlieir footsteps still ; 

In all their pleasure bears a part. 

And weeps the wayward ill ; 

While agonized with fear and love. 

And ever watchful care. 

Like incense sweet, ascends above, 

The j)ious Mother's Prayer ! 

And v>^liile devotion, fear dispels, 

With holy hope assured, 

Some kind commissioned spirit tells, 

x6 'i^iiy Yows of faith are heard !^^ 

O, rich the meed that heaven bestovv^s, 

To bless maternal care ; 

And large the stream of love that flows. 

Called by a Mother's Prayer! 



Land of the Patriot! thy symbol adorns, 

With lustre serene, the horizon afar; 

On the mantle of night undiminished it burns. 

And the dawning appears, long foretold by the star 



38 



Gem of the south ! thy pure glories display, 

New charms to the nations that slumber in gloom; 

As cheered with thy influence, and warmed by thy 

ray. 
They view the yolmg tendril now rij^en to bloomo 

When despoiled of her altar, fair Liberty left 
The land whose dark rites did its lustre impair, 
-On the pinions of time borne afar to thy* cleft. 
She pierced the thick veil and discovered it there* 

Though wild was the havoc that crimsoned thy plain^ 

And dimmed is the sceptre thy Genius ^ had won| 
The Inca descended, will sway "it again, 
'^nd Freedom shall guard thee, the child of the Sun! 

Land of the Patriot! tli-c lialo revealed ^ n^ 

On the /deeds of thy chiefs shall with ages increase | 

The .temple of ,^1oft slialf rise unconcealed, 
And hecatombs bleed on the altar of Peace« 



TO A WITHERED LEAF. 

I SAW thee eddying on the air. 
Thou lonely fallen leaf; 
I marked thy hue, it once was fair^ 
But ah, thy reign how brief! 



39 



^Twas lately that in summer tidf^ 
Thou wav^st on yonder tree; 
I saw thee shine in dewy pride^ 
When morning beamed on thee. 

How humble now, thy lowly lot. 

Neglected and alone; 

Thy form and hue remembered not, 

Thy summer day hath flown ! 

And sucli I said, our chequered state, 

And such affection's doom, 

It charms awhile, but wayward fate, 

Despoils the fairy bloom. 

The morning beams that seem to bless, 

Too soon are veiled in tears; 

The smiles that glow when joys caress. 

Retire, when grief appears : 

Like thine, lone leaf, by storms bereft. 

The tints of summer fly; 

And soa^row's hapless child is left 

To droop awhile- — and die ! 



Go! little pledge of love sincere, 

To sweet Eliza fly; 
Wet Yvitli af^ectio^^s early tear, 

The drop of sympathy. 



40 



Go tell her this fraternal hearty 
To her remembrance true — 

Hath in her sorrows borne a parti, 
And felt the arrow too. 

Go tell her, though with grief opprest^ 
It sighs o'er pleasures flown, 

This bosom care will sweetly rest: 
Her love is all its own ! 

And whisper — though we meet no more* 

On earth no converse share 
Yet joined again on yonder shore. 

We'll bow together there* 



There are, whose bosoms glow in Solitude, 
Not Solitude of base misanthropy 5— 
With bliss, on which the gay cannot intrude. 
With thoughts that revel in eternity. 

Then heaven is nigh, and the world's feverish dream, 
And passion's storm, grief's tumults disappear; 
Peace looks out smiling with celestial beam. 
And hope's fond ray illumes the latent tear. 



41 



Yes, there are moments, ^vlieii witli winning power. 
Retirement claims tlie willing soul for God 5 
How privileged ! to tread at such an hour 
The hallowed path that folly never trode. 

But fly, ye guilty! from these shades profound; 
Ye votaries! approach not to the throne, 
Who, reckless, stray in dissipation's round, 
Who shun the sabbath of a heart alone. 

The fadeless flower that retrospection rears. 
And loves to rear, is night-shade, rank, to you^ 
Memory, whose glance hath penetrated years. 
With scorpion sting will your retreat pursue. 

Fly to that world which ye have loved so well. 
Arrest its shadows, — all its pleasures share. 
Then ask seclusion, ^ what are theyl' — she'll tell, 
Death to the soul, and food for curst despair! 



The scenes of gay childhood, to me ever dear. 
Often smile o'er the prospect in memory's dream ; 
Then the valley and mountain enclianting appear, 
x4nd broadly meanders Connecticut's stream! 



4£ 



^Twas there, dearest Brother! wlieii autumn had 

prest 
Its fingers of gold on the lawn and the wood. 
While our hearts were reposing, in sympathy blest, 
We wandered as free as the billow we loved. 



*Twas charming! and hov/ delightful the hour. 

As we strayed where Northampton^'^ arose to the view| 
While fancy culled fragrance from each budding 

flower. 
We smiled at the sketch that futurity drew. 

With the freshness of morning we welcomed the sun. 
When his beam on the oak-mantled eminence played; 
And often in sadness vv^e w^andered at noon. 
Where the poplars lent awe to the cemetry's shade. 

! I wish not the heart that could carelessly stray 
Where thy landscapes, old Hampshire ! in verdure 

appear; 
O'er its chill can no glimpse of tranquility play, ■ 
It knows not the pang, nor the bliss of a tear. 

Land of his Fathers! the minstrel still loves thee. 
And fain would his numbers display all thy sweets; 
Though sorrow now claims him, a w^anderer . far 
from thee, 

His heart- pulse is true, and to childhood it beats. 

^ A romantic village on tbe Connecticut River. 



i 



43 



Like a ray of calm sunshine ^nid life's gathering ills 
Joy breaks on the pilgrim, in memory's dream\- 
And in vision he roams o'er his own native hills. 
And rambles again by Connecticut's stream. 



TO '^####, 

ox PRESENTING HIS INFANT AT THE FONT. 

That cherub bloom which vies the rose, 
Was wet with fond paternal tears; 
The love that but a parent knows. 
Hath 'dewed the child of hopes and fears. 

With rapture hath tlic father prcst 
Those parting lips of coral hue, 
While, pillowed on the mother's breast. 
Her wistful smile hath blest it too. 

But other dews have wet that brow. 
And other, brighter gems are there; 
The drops that from the altar flow— 
The tears of mingled faith and prayer. 

Sweet the emotions tliat reveal 
Alfection's ever living flood. 
But lovelier — holier is the seal 
That consecrates the child to God. 



44 



SHIP OF THE DEAD. 

The following fragment is from a legend of a former cen- 
tury. ' The sun was just rising above the horizon^ and a few 
thick clouds were gathered on the pinnacles of the surround- 
ing hills. As the travellers ascended a pile of granite rocks 
called the Templesk anzei, they saw in the distance before 
them among volumes of white clouds, which rolled like the 
billows of a hazy ocean, a semblance of a ship with bare 
masts, and human figures scattered on the deck. Young Her- 
man w aid SAv/ his companion grow pale, and fix his eyes in- 
tently on the apparition v/hich gradually sunk and disappear- 
ed. They pursued their way toward the Worm Mountains, 
conversing on the spectre of the Braken, which has been for 
so many years the wonder of rustic Hanoverians^ and the 
speculation of curious travellers. Hermanwald had wit and 
science, and he talked ingeniously of those deceptions of the 
atmosphere, and that morbid state of the brain, which, with- 
out either prejudice or superstition^ may combine to form 
certain images.' 

What barque glides remote on the bosom of air? 
^Mid the storm cloud she rides^ yet no seaman is 

there^ 
No banners are floating, no canvass is spread. 
Her freight is untold, 'tis the Ship of the Dead! 

All slowly she mounts on the foam of the wind. 
And the breezes of ether are scattered behind; 
No wave curls its mountain, no seas wet her bow^ I 
Yet proud is her motion and gallant her prow. 



V 



45 

Her bulwark is crimsoned with eddies of blood 
The corses arc seen where tlie foeinen have stood ; 
And those who have vanquished, or fell in the fight, 
Repose in dull sleep on the pillow of night. 

The harp of the formless hath wakened its wailj 
The dirge of the wandering is heard on the gakj 
^Tis the song of the viewless that night-vigils keep5, 
The requiem of those that repose in the deep. 

When the monarch of morning shines bright on the 

wave. 
When the wind-gods rejoice o'er the mariner's grave, 
The shepherd of Hartz views afar with lone dread^ 
On the billowless zephyr, the Ship of the Dead! 



Hah, beauteous Spring ! 

Thou queen of flowers ! 
Who smiles doth bring 

From pleasure's fairy bowers^ 
Hail, beauteous Spring! 

Parent of virgin dewsj 
With thee is seen 

The dance^ and laughing Muse ! 

2 D 



46 



Hail, beauteous Spring! 

We greet thy halcyon reign; 
Thy vocal choirs 

Shall wake the groves again : 
Thy song we hear, 

At eve and early morn, 
When rosy May 

With Flora, treads the lawn* 

Hail, beauteous Spring! 

Daughter of youthful Love| 
'Tis thou dost bring, 

Joy to the mated dove! 
Man owns thy genial sway. 

Sweet peace beguiles, — 
Hail to thee, beauteous Spring ! 

Mother of smiles! 



The foundering barque by tempests tost^ 
Engulphed in ocean^s foaming wave| 
While clinging to the splintered mast, 
The sea-boy marks the billowy grave— 
say, why beams that glance of wo. 
While steals adown the stranger tear| 
Is it his fate he mourns? — ah no^ 
'Tis one afar, to memory dear! 



47 



While climbing o'er the shattered lee, 

The panting seamen, 'nighled, reel; 

As rudely lashed by every sea, 

Each timber shivers to the keel — 

Why falters now the accent low, 

That once each shipmate heart could cheer? 

Is it appalling danger? — no! 

'Tis one afar, to memory dear! 

When pitying mercy calms the gale. 
And gently lulls the wavy storm; 
While breezes press the stiffened sail^ 
And hope revives, v*ith fancy warm — 
say, why smiles the sea-boy so, 
As something whispers — ^' port is near!^^ 
Is it for self he joys? — ah no, 
*Tis one afar, to memory dear! 



I MARKED the calm moment when slowly descending^ 
Yon orb robed in splendour sunk low^ to its rest; 
While the pale lingering ray with the night-shadoW 

blending. 
Still mantled afar as it played in the west : 

I sighed, but methought that in glory appearing. 
Those beams will return and new lustre displays 



48 

Again will illume, and mortality cheering^ 
Break forth in the pride and effulgence of day. 

I saw the companion in beauty late blooming, 
The roses had withered that once flourished fair; 
Those lips late so lovely the clay hue assuming. 
Were sealed up in death, yet a smile lingered there : 

I wept — but Faith said, at the latter day dawning, 
Affection again, will its counterpart see; 
This smile is the prescience of that holy morning. 
Which shall call my companion, pure, sinless and 
free. 



THE DEAF AND DUMB. 

Ye kind Benevolent! that know. 
Of intellectual bliss the sum; 

Ye whose expanded feelings glow^ 
O smile upon the Deaf and Dumb! 

On them the storms have rudely blown. 
They wither on the breast of even. 

Receive the flowerets to your own. 
Their fragrance will ascend to heaven. 



49 



let tliese too, in knowledge share. 
From the Avastc mind let darkness flee. 

Bid the bright day-beam kindle there. 
The lamp of immortality ! 

Though soothing blandishment ne'er cheer« 
Their solitude, nor utterance kind, 

Yet mutual sympathy is theirs 

The language of the kindred mind ^ 

And this shall bless you — and the tear^^ 
Nature's pure accent — will reveal, 

Emotions undefined — yet dear. 
The tribute that the heart can feel. 

Yes! and the bosom whispered prayer. 
Of Innocence shall rise, while some 
\Yinged messenger, to I^ob? shall bear^ 
, The offering of the Deaf and Bumb ! 



My Father ! though the early summer flower. 
Hath often bloomed and withered o'er thy clay; 
Though years have wandered since the eventful hour, 
I saw tliem bear thy dear remains away: 
Though potent tioie hath dried the briny tear. 
That artless childhood dropped upon thy bier 5 



50 



Yet dost thou in fond memory claim a place^ 

Those features mild, this heart yet loves to trace^ 

And recollection yet beholds thy form, 

Hears the loved voice where once instruction grew, 

Still marks the pressure of afTection warm, 

And feels the heart- wrung tear, his youthful cheek 

bedew. 
If now, thou bend'st from yon ethereal plain. 
Where angels worship in exalted bliss; 
Or wanderest near thy w ell known bowers agaiia, 
To soothe the mourner, — then my Father ! this, 
this I ask, that thou with accents B>ild, 
Wouldst w^liisper blessings on thy stricken child; 
O guide his steps— though viewless, guard his way^ 
Thy wonted counsels stamp upon his heart, 
Strengthen each virtue, seek him, when astray 
He wanders thoughtless, from the lamp of day; 
Reclaim his footsteps, and sweet peace impart. 
Thus, my Father! shall he rise like thee. 
To shine above, from night and bitter sorrow free. 



THE COLOMBIAN FLAG. 

What Meteor burns clear on the bosom of night, _ 

What trophy illumes the horizon afar? 

^Tis the flag of the brave—beaming herald of light! 

The symbol of glory, Colombia's Star! 



51 

It waves o'er the fortress where tyranny^s yoke, 
Had crushed with oppression tlie soul of the Free, 
On the ruins of crime where the death-spell is broke. 
It banners triumphant, Grenada, o'er thee! 

In the vallies of Quito the symbol is seen. 
The soil of the Patriot is dewed with a tear. 
It streams o'er the mountain with aspect serene. 
And the tempests of night, in rebuke disappear; 
Afar to the breeze, see ! it floats on the mast. 
Where commerce unshackled, revives her domain, 
The pledge of the future — the dread of the past. 
Full proudly it waves o'er the land and the main. 

Let the tyrant-heart tremble, when Liberty calls ! 
His myrmidons shrink at the triumph of fame. 
While the watchword of Freedom the despot appals. 
The Spaniard restored, shall her honours proclaim. 
We hail the proud Flag to Columbia's strand. 
Where the plaudit of millions, bids welcome again 
To the symbol of hope on the billow and land, 
The triple-striped banner of Peace and New-Spain ! 



My mothijr! I remember well. 
The anxious eye, the accent dear; 

The smile that could each grief dispel^ 
The love that hushed my infant tear. 



5£ 



My Mother! recollection still, 

Reviews those hours of care to thee ; 

When these frail limhs were racked with ill^ 
And all, hut thou, seemed blank to me. 

How patient didst thou near my bed, 
Thy morn and nightly vigils keep; 

And glad, forget thy aching head. 

When thou hadst soothed my woes to sleep. 

How oft the sigh thy heart distrest. 

When I unconscious, moaned my grief; 

And O what rapture w^armed thy breast, 
When nourished there, I found relief. 

And when by heaven and thee restored. 
Again I sought my mother's smile; 

How didst thou bless the Eternal God, 
Whose love had spared me yet awhile ! 

When youth delighted still to stray, 
Allured by pleasure, beckoning, fair; 

With tears didst thou direct my way. 
And wept for me the midniglit prayer. 

Yes, O my Mother ! memory well 
Revives the look, the accent dear. 

The smile that could my grief dispel. 
The love that hushed my infant tear. 



DECATUR'S grave- 
Why weeps tlic Muse her glory fled? 
Why droops Columbia's Genius so? 
The laurel wreath is sear and dead; 
Decatur's gallant form is low! 
Ye hoary warriors ! hither bring 
Your tribute to the kindred brave; 
Ye beauteous maidens ! haste and fling 
Your chaplets o'er Decatur's Grave, 

Let those depart, who tear away 
The wreath that marks a godlike soul: 
Let those depart, who chide tlie lay. 
And for one error blot the scroll,— 
Approach! ye generous, feeling few, 
Where selfishness can ne'er intrude; 
Approach — Decatur's grave bedew; 
Sweet are the tears of G ratitude ! 

The hero mingles with the dust, 
But glory shrines his deathless fame; 
The tomb receives its hallowed trust. 
But unborn ages breathe his name! 
Yes mighty dead! in every breast. 
Thou still shalt live, to memory dear; 
This turf by virgin footsteps prest. 
Shall witness sorrow's dQwy tear ! 

E 



54 



Hither will Sympathy repair^ 
To deck her favourite's early tomb^ 
While Charity, with aspect fair, 
Will mantle thy untimely doom; 
Farewell ! the gem that hailed thy morn. 
Now sunk beneath the w estern sky, — 
Will w ake for thee a brighter dawn. 
The star of Glory ne'er can die! 



I HAVE watched the calm billow when twilight had 

flown. 
And the pale evening star sweetly played on its 

breast. 
When zephyr had slumbered, I've marked the low" 

moan. 
Steal on the rapt soul like the songs of the blest. 

*Twas the Wail of the Deep! when from ocean's dark 
cave. 

The god of the waters, of bodiless form ; 

Emerged in his anger to mountain the wave^ 
Rejoicing in spoil as he rode on the storm! 

drear is the strife when the portent is nigh! 
sad is the plaining that calls to the dead! 



OD 



The wide waste of waters responds to the cry — 
The shriek of the wretch, as he sinks to its bed. 

When high in von vault walks tlic empress of night, 
And on the lone billow the star-ray doth sleep, — 
From slumber the sea-boy is roused with affright, 
And lists with pale dread to the Wail of the Deep! 



TRIBUTARY, 

C C OF M 



'Tis past ! the voyage of life is o'er^ 
The wanderer hails another clime; 
On perils borne to yonder shore, 
lie views afar the waves of time ; 
The storm that muttered o'er his head. 
The flame tliat quivered round his path^ 
Are sweetly hushed, the cloud hath fled. 
And gone the angry lightning's scathe. 

'Tis past! and grief is changed to songs 
That Angel cordons love to hear; 
The harp that to delight belongs. 
In softest murmur soothes his ear ; 
Tise secret sigh that rent his breast, 
Now breathes of balmy peace alone. 
The tear that told the heart opprest, 
Is gemmed around the eternal throne. 



5^ 



Blest voyager! Bow happy thoii^ 
Safe inooved within the port of peaces 
Once heir of death — immortal now, 
Of pain—thy toils forever cease; . 
may I too, thus sv/eetly rise, 
Thus tread yon bright empyrion free 5 
With joy regain those native skies. 
Secure at last, in love like thee. 



FEAST OF THE DEAD. 

Ontahio! thy billow hath sunk to its rest. 

The mantle of twilight envelops thy wave; 

On the forest of pines sleeps the gleam of the west. 

And the breeze of i\\Q inoimtain hath fled to its cave. 

Nea^r yon beetling rock, see the tall Indian glide! 

His barque cleaves the flood with the speed of the 

foe; 
The warrior is there — but no spear decks his side; 
The hatchet is buried, unbent is the bow^ ! 

Hark! hark— 'tis tlie death-song that swells on the 

gale, 
All wild is the cadence, and mournful the strain; 



57 



^Tis the war-wlioop that hids tlic dark foeman assail, 
'Tis the cry whose dread signal hath crimsoned tlie 
plain ! 

say what red ruin illumines the gloam, 
What foes skulk in amhush, or rush to the deed? 
What youth scalped in slaughter, what captive shall 

roam. 
What Chief, cruel fate! in the wigwam shall bleed? 

No red ruin tells that the foeman is nigh, 
No whiteman shall languish a captive afar. 
The cliieftain at midnight hath uttered the cry, 
The death-song is echoed, but hushed is the war! 

^Tis the Feast of the Dead^ — see! in yon lonely isle. 
The Iroquois weep o'er the bones of the slain ^ 
The remnants of valor, the war-trophied spoil. 
Are gathered afar, from the valley and plain. 

They weep, as the relics of time and the grave. 
All hideous, and mournful, the night-fires disclose 3 
They hymn the exploits of the Werowance brave; 
They howl the sad requiem of lasting repose! 

* It is well known that the ceremony of disintering their 
deceased relatives, at certain periods, was peculiar to the 
Aborigines of this country. The affection of the untutored 
Indian, thus displayed, is striking. 



58 



The dawn is advancing ! all liiislied is tlte cry ; 
The souls, long departed, flee lonely and far; 
Naught is heard but the billow responding its sigh. 
Naught is seen but the twinkling of nighf s fading 
star. 



RUINS OF JAMES TOWN, VIRGINIA, 

WHITTEIS^ Y/EILE PASSIIS^G BOWK JA:>IES RIYEIl. 

The town sleeps in ruins^ and solitude reigns, 
Where nature once smiled with the aspect of day | 
Drear night broods alone o'er the valley and plains. 
And thy shores, Powhatan! naught but sadness 
display. 

The tribute fair Princess^ that rose to thy fame. 

The memorial so dear to affection, and thee. 
Is scattered afar, and none but the name, 
To tell that thy soul vv as as generous as free. 

Ah ! wild is the woodland, and dreary the clift. 
No more shall the huntsman come hither to roam, 

By the grey touch of years, of each charm 'tis bereft, 

Desolation is trophied where once was a home ! 

* Pocahontas. 



j 



59 



Lorn now is the structure once hallowed by prayer, 
No longer the organ is heard in the aisle, 
The ivy is festooned, the cypress blooms there, 
And the lonely night-bird nestles sad in the spoil. 

In the clefts of the tombstone, the tall grass is green, 
The shnib and the lilach commingle their shade; 
^Mid the moss-woven fragments the yew tree is seen, 
It hallows the spot where the fathers are laid! 

The relics of sorrow are scattered around, 
The wild flowerets shade them, the thistles appear, 
But the heart of affection revisits the mound, 
The traveller returns, and indulges the tear. 

Thou dust of my fathers! still soft be your bed, 
Revered be the ti-ophies which memory endears : 
Ye ruins that hallow the place of the dead, 
Your remembrance shall live while virtue hath tears. 



THE KIDNAPPER. 

His brow was dark, and sternly there 
The deed of midnight frowned,' 
His eye was sunk, its lurid glare 
Spoke cruelty enthroned. 



60 



I saw his wretched Tictim borne 

To yonder slave-ship's hold; 

From home^ from vvife, from children torn^ 

The sacrifice to gold. 

In vain the sire^.the mother plead. 
He mocked with cruel taunt; 
To shame, to generous pity dead. 
His heart was adamant. 

Just Heaven ! I said, shall Avarice' stain 
Pollute my natal soil — 
Hath Godlike freedom reared in vain. 
Her crest on slavery's spoil? 

Descend Humanity! and dwell 
With Mak, subdued by thee| 
Then shall the Afric proudly tell, 
Columbia! thou art free ! 



TO THE MISSOURI. 

Roll vast Missouri ! roll thy mighty wave. 
Where savage moantains skirt the southern sea> 
In foaming pride, the woodless desert lave. 
Where nature cleaves its rugged breast for thee. 



61 



Queen of the waters ! waft to Indian shores. 
The fruitful tribute of a generous soil; 
Where genius triumphs, where rich plenty pours, 
The glad exuberance of honest toil. 



Go mighty billow! bear to Nature's child. 
The noblest boon compassion can bestow; 
Improving arts, diffusive knowledge mild, 
The living fount whence happiness should flow. 



Go tell the wretch, the Whiteman yet can feel. 
He yet can weep the wrongs that avarice gave; 
Though deep the wound, the Calumet shall heal. 
The Peace-branch blossom o'er the hatchet's grave. 



Roll on — uncrimsoned with pollution's stain, 
The crime of Freemen still unknown to thee,- 
To latest ages fertilize the plain^ 
That proudly boasts the Ethiopean free ! 



Roll mighty billow! future golden time, 
Shall greet an empire on thy smiling shore; 
Thither shall natiosis from each distant clime. 
The proud oblation to Coliunbia pour. 



6£ 



When the distant war-drum's beat. 

Calls the soldier far away, 
Death in tented fields to meet. 

Glory in the battle fray^ — 
Why, O why, the stealing tear ? 

Whence, O whence, the struggling sigh? 
Soldiers cannot yield to fear; 

Warriors ne'er can dread to die ! 



When the din of strife is o'er. 

When the battle-tempests cease; 
When the cannon's brazen roar 

Yields to sweeter notes of peace — 
Why, O why, at rapture's dream. 

Throbs the youthful bosom so ? 
Whence, O whence, that April gleam, 

Playing on the scars of wo ? 



'Tis youthful Love! — the magic, blest! 

Ever trembling, ever fair; 
Love inspires tlie soldier's breast, 

Love-— sweet wanderer ! nestles there : 
This with throbbing impulse beats, 

This at parting brings the tear; 
This the April smile that greets, 

When the scenes of love appear. 



63 



TO A WEEPING WILLOW, 

Lone tree! thy shade of hallowed green^ 
Wliere moaning zephyrs gently play. 
In chastened sadness still is seen, 

The summer day. 

But yet unlike the fitful ill. 
That yields to sympathy's relief. 
In sorrow, droops unceasing still. 

Thy mournful leaf. 

Full well I love thy deepening shade. 
And when bright Phosbus wakes the morn^ 
When pearly dew-drops gem the glade, 

Or eve the lawn — 

To thee, a friend, will I repair, 
Wiiile fancy treads her vagrant mood. 
Or memory wanders, thou shalt share 

My solitude. 

I'll tell tltee all that thought employs. 
Will draw from recollection's store. 
Of early love- — of youthful joys. 

That smile no more. 



64 



And when in death I calmly sleep, 
And ^neath thy shade forgotten lie. 
Thou wilt kind vigils hold, and weep 

My memory. 



'Tis not in dreams of pleasure, 
That real bliss doth dwell ; 

^Tis not in hoards of treasure. 
That fancy builds her cell — 

Within the fairy bower 

Of Woman^s smile 'tis seen; 

'Tis virgin love's wild-flower. 

That charms with beauteous mien, 

Delight sincere reposes. 
In beauty's kindling eye; 

Sweeter than summer roses. 
Is beauty's nectared sigh! 

Then may each true endeavour, 
With beauty's smile be blest; 

Affection pillow ever 

On Woman's faithful breast. 



65 

FATE OF THE PILOT BOAT. 

' During the late war with England, the Patriot pilot boat 
was despatched to Charleston for the purpose of bringhig to 
New-York Mrs. Allston, lady of the then governor of South 
Carolina, and daughter of Colonel Burr, formerly Vice Pre- 
sident of the United States. Mrs. Allston was in a delicate 
state of health at the time, and unable to travel by land. 
From the time she embarked and sailed from Charleston, no 
tidings whatever had been heard of the vessel or any one on 
board. Notwithstanding the weather was mild and favour- 
able, for several days after the vessel left Charleston, and 
such as to render her loss mysterious, no other idea of the 
melancholy circumstance prevailed, than that the vessel 
must have foundered at sea, or run under during a chase. 

But the mystery was at length developed. Two of the 
PIRATES sentenced to suffer death at New-Orleans, in the 
spring of 1820, confessed that they composed part of the 
crew of the above pilot boat Patriot! That after being at sea 
two or three days and near the shore, they rose upon the cap- 
tain and passengers, and confined them below ; and after 
plundering the passengers of a considerable sum of money 
and plate, belonging mostly to Mrs. Allston, they launched 
the boat and scuttled the vessel, vv^hicli soon filled and went 
down, with the unfortunate inmates confined below! The 
dreadful tragedy v/as performed in the dead of night. These 
wretches succeeded in reaching the shore with the boat, and 
had thus far escaped detection and punishment for this horri- 
ble crime!' 

The niglit was lone, and the star-ray slept. 

All bright on wave and lea ; 
And the tempest-king drear vigils kept. 

O'er the wide Atlantic sea. 



66 

The night was lone^ and the murmuring train 

Of slumber stole along; 
And softly whispering o'er the main^ 

Was borne the sea-boy's song* 

He sang of home^ and the simple charms 

The cot of his fathers knew; 
He sang of the joy of a mother's arms. 

And he sang of the maiden true. 

The note was wild, but the artless lay. 
His Dirge! should soon be o'er: 

His bosom was light, but ere the day. 
That bosom should beat no more ! 

The ship was proud, and gallant her trim^ 

Her banner swept the wave ; 
But ere the lamps of heaven grew dim. 

That flag should deck her grave! 

The Femaxe watched the beauteous star, 

As o'er the blue waste it shone | 
And busy memory strayed afar. 

And fancy sighed alone. 

She thought of bliss, and fairy home, 

And affection's smiling store; 
JBut ah! fond love, and a husband's dome,^ 

That bosom should know no more. 



67 



For the pirate crew in revelry, 
Had drunk to the dreadful deed, 

And the murderers swore right jovially, 
The innocent heart should bleed! 

At the midniglit hour was heard the cry, 

The shriek of fell despair ; 
At dawn was hushed tlie billowy sigh, 

And the pale moon glimmered fair. 

But the wind-god saw the deed of hell. 
When the fiends forsook the deck; 

He saw the barque as it slowly fell, 
^Till it sank — a viewless wreck ! 

At midnight-hour, when the sea-boy^s song 

Is hushed — in lonely dread. 
He hears sweet music steal along — 

^Tis the moan of the hapless dead ! 



1 KNEW the boy, and he was such an one 
As we can dearly love, nor question why; 
Of fragile form, yet fair, methinks the sun 
Ne'er shone upon a lovelier, his eye 
Sparkled with hope and innocence, delight 
Dwelt in his motions, every thought was joy; 



68 



Gentle in heart, attractive to the sight. 

Death! how could^st thou such comeliness destroy? 

I saw him flushed with health, the opening rose 
Was not more sweet, his cheek had stoPn its hue, — 
On his fair brow sat childhood^s calm repose; 
His budding iip, surcharged with freshest dew^ 
Spake promise of long days, we fondly said 
These charms will flourish,— many a genial spring 
Invigorating, will kind infloence shed. 
Ripening the plant, and full perfection bring* 

1 saw him in the agonizing hour. 

When Pain was struggling with its victim, there 

Was loveliness remaining, though the power 

Of fell disease, had blighted what was fair j — 

He knew me not,-— already had he flown 

In thought, to his empyrean, and ere 

Some cherub called, ^^ away!'' he sought the throne;-^ 

What should the traveller know of sorrow here? 

I saw him, — but the last long strife was o'er! — 
'Twas hard, for Death had lingered with the blow, 
Reluctant, seeming :~pale he was, but more 
Of beauty have I never seen, the foe, 
Unwilling to deface so sweet a germ. 
Had left heaven's impress on the sleeping clay,-«- 
There reigned, sublime, eternity's deep calm. 
Death sat, a smiling victor, on his prey. 



69 



'Brother!— Here were we born. These forests are made 
dear to us, by the recollections of childhood. Wliere can we 
find again the pie tsant place of our youth i* Here are our 
burial grounds. Can we say to the bones of our fathers, Rise 
and go with us into a foreign land !* 

Speech of ax Indian Chief. 



Shaxl the warrior flee his home? 
Shall the Chief, a stranger, roam? 
Will the Whiteman in his wrath. 
Chase the Indian from his path? 
"^^ anderer, from his lakes removed. 
Exile from the shades he loved? — 
Who shall hurl the ready spear? 
Who transfix the flying deer? 
Who the bufi'alo will meet? 
Hunted from his dark retreat, — 
Who shall guide the swift canoe? 
Barb tlie arrow — bend the yew? 
Shall the Spirit of the mountain^ 
Guardian of the vale and fountain. 
Lend him victory when afar — 
Spoil and glory in the war? 
Ah, shall he leave his father's clay? 
To the hallowed asl es say. 
Rise ! forsake your native bed-^ 
Rise — the Desolate have fled! 

2 F 







TO A. P. HEINRICH, 

Author of * The dawi^ikg of Music' 

Bard of the varied Lyre! 
Whose thrill so exquisite, so holy. 

Hath often kindled Fancy^s fire^ 
And soothed sad Melancholy : 

Bard of the magic song ! 
Whose strain to nature true. 
Draws the rapt soul along. 
And hids the Essence blest, ethereal joys renew 
In care's drear wilderness, 

Sw eetly doth beguile ; ^ 

Softens the rugged brow. 

And on distress. 
Calls Resignation's smile, 
I hail thee now ! 

The Muse would pay the tribute due. 

To numbers sweet as thine; 
This heart would bless the impulse true^ 

Thine own is feeling's shrine 3 
Thou too, hath siglied, and sympathy 

Doth grief to thee endear; 
Thou too, hath wept! and misery 

Still claims from thee the tear* 



n 

When to the Western wild, 

The Minstrel-Bard shall stray. 
Descend! Thou influence mild! 

And oruard the wanderer's wav. 

In solitude's lone hour, 

When memory shall return. 
And griefs of other days 

The stricken heart will mourn, — 
With sacred soothing power, 

O calm his soul ! 
With Music bid him rise 
To yon empyrean skies. 

Where thunders, softened, roll. 
The clime without a cloud, where tempests 
never lour! 



When the cold sleep of death shall envelop this clay. 
And the damps of the grave dew this brow; 

When the smile blooms no longer, and far, far away^ 
Flies the spirit that lightens it now : 

I ask not the trophies of grandeur to shrine 
The dust, that witli dust fain would blend; 

I ask not for lays — be the Cenotaph mine. 
The remembrance — the tears of a friend. 



m 



SARATOGA. 

Here the foemen, in conflict, have met, 

When Revenge bade the death-brand to draw^ 
On the plains which their life-crimson wet, 
The heroes have rushed to the war; 

Saw ye not the proud banneret gory? 
The flag of the patriot free — - 
The meteor exhaling to glory? 
It shone, Saratoga ! on thee. 

^Twas the hour when dimly the star 

Of America, glimmered on night. 
When the death-drum, and bugle, afar. 
Called the chieftain away to the fight; 

The links of curst thraldom, to sever, 
The Champions of Freedom arose — 
^Till oppression was scattered, should never 
The sword in its scabbard repose! 

With devotion the traveller here, 

O'er the relics of valor would tread; 
He gives to their prowess the tear. 
It moistens the place of the dead ; 

Revered be the incense — ^tis holy! 
Ever green be the warrior^s grave,; 
Columbia! cherish the glory, 
That haloes the deeds of the brave! 



WHO IS MY NEIGHBOUR? 

HOLT WRIT, 

Not he that basks in fortune's ray, 

Of proud unfeeling soul; 
Not he whom sycophants obey. 

Who rules with w ide control : 

Not he that seeks my open door, 

Witli fair profession free; 
Not he that takes my daily store. 

And shares his mite with me : 

Not he that witli the name of friend 

Is prompt at every need; 
Not he that kindness doth intend. 

Yet falters In the deed : 

Not he, though prized, for whom the sweets 

Of fellowship, are known; 
Not he for whom this bosom beats^ 

Who calls its love his own: 

But he, whose miseries proclaim^ 
That naught but tears are his ; 

He, he alone can boast the name, 
And he my Neighbour is, 



74 



TO G E , 

ON HIS REKOUKCING THE CHRISTIAN, FOR THE M0HAMMEDA3f FAITH. 

Why, in error's wilds astray, 
Youth, aspiring, art thou found? 
"Why forsake the former way, 
Tempting thus, forbidden ground? 
Wears Mohammed's glittering crown, 
Pageant, stained with guiltless blood,-— 
Truer glories than have shone. 
Shone around the Son of God? 

Beams the robe of Moorish mail 
Brighter than the Christian's gem? 
Lovelier glows the crescent pale. 
Than the star of Bethlehem? 
Youth, return ! the Prophet's shrine 
Burns not with descended flame | 
Youth ! the incense is not thine, 
Incense of a Saviour's name. 

In the contrite heart is seen 
Treasures, known not to thy heaven; 
Yea the tears of Magdalene 
Dim the charms to Houries given. 
Songs of mirth are thine — to me 
Dearer is the music holy. 
Such as lone Gethsemane 
Breathes in tones of melanqholy^ 



75 



Blossoms Sharon^s shady bower. 
Fairer than tliy sensual seat; 
Loftier rises Salem^s tower. 
Than StambouPs proud minaret. 
Haste thee to yon bannered steep 
Where the Iman beckons thee. 
Haste thee! — I will go to weep 
At the foot of Calvary. 



' TRIBUTARY, 

W- , or THE U. S, FRIGATE CONSTITUTI029^. 



FAREWELii ! and if the frequent tear 
Of those, once loved, be for thee shed, 
Although it wets no costly bier. 
Nor gems the gorgeous marbled bed, — 

Spirit! it consecrates the tomb. 
Where youth's fair buds of promise lie; 
Nourished by this, in beauteous bloom 
The floweret lives, no more to die. 

Farewell ! and if the sigh be given 
For hopes, that early sank to rest. 
Though borne not by the winds of heaven 
To him, whose couch is ocean's breast,— 



re 



Spirit! that bosom-sigh hath flown 
In meekness, on the wings of prayer ; 
Wafted to yonder sapphire throne^ 
It finds for thee, acceptance there ! 

We saw thee not, tliough thine was pain, 
We knew not ill, though thou hadst fled; 
We smiled to meet thee here again. 
And fondly dreamed — when thou wast dead 

Thou liv^st! — we will not, cannot grieve, 
Hope shows thee to our longing sight. 
For, taught by thee, we gladly leave 
These stormy seas, for shores of light. 



THE MISSION. 

Hauk ! from yon wilds is heard the strain 
Of joy, and praise, ascending high; 
The song of Zion cheers the plain. 
The desert breathes the contrite^s sigh ! 

To Osage climes the Whitemen go — 
No deeds of conquest mark their way; 
Tlie high behest is theirs to show 
Redemption to the tribes that stray* 



77 



A herald leads the martyrs hciice^ 
"Tis Mercy's gem awakes the dawn, — 
Tlie star tliat hailed Omnipotence, 
Proclaims the blest millenial morn ! 

They mark the sign to yonder land^ 
It points to perils and a tomb, — 
They go! — on the devoted band. 
The dews of Zion shed perfume. 

With prayers they shake the idol's throne, 
The Indian to our God inclines; 
The forest hears a sound unknown. 
The Cross surmounts the western pines! 

Raise your glad songs, ye choirs ! on high. 
Salvation to the heathen flovvs— 
Ye Paeans! roll along the sky. 
The desert blossoms like the rose. 



fHESE STAK^ZAS WERE OCCASIONED BY HEAHING 3IIIS. FRENCH SINGr AT 
A COXCERTj THE OBJECT OE WHICH WAS BENEYOLENCE. 

I iisTENED — for celestially, 
It stole along the air, 
Methouglit the hallowed minstrelsy. 
Of Seraphim was there. 



r^ 



I listened — for ^twas Beauty breathed^ 
The fascinating swell, — 
^Twas blooming innocence, that sighed 
The airs that sweetly felL 

I listened- — for the soothing strain. 
Would banish heartfelt wo: 
From want, and sorrow's hapless train, 
Bid tears of rapture flow. 

I listened-— as subtUied I heard^ 
The bosom-thrilling song,— 
Methooght that Charity appeared^ 
And dwelt the chords among. 

When Music w akes to ecstacy. 
And bids compassion move; 
O then 'tis heaven's own harmony. 
For heaven is naught but love! 



DExiTH-BED OF THE PIOUS. 

Theue is a smile of purer ray. 
Than ftincy's features wear; 

A flame whose wavy pinions play. 
With glow divinely fair: 



79 



There is a holy, vestal calm, 

That breathes of bliss and heaven; 

A solitude of lovelier cliarm, 
Than dews tlie wing of even : 

There is a bright, a pleasing hour, 

AYhen all is love serene; 
When angels whisper from their bower. 

And joys untold are seen: 

That smile on Faith's pale brow hath shone, 

That calm is yielding breath; 
That hour of hallowed peace is known 

Around the bed of Death. 



TO MISS A. C 



9 

ON HER RETURK TO lyTEW-ENGLAND. 

YoiT go, fair Amelia! those regions to bless, 
Where the sun of your youth bi^iglitly shone; 

Where affection bestowed the paternal caress. 
Where childhood's dear visions were known. 

You go! and fond pleasure illumes with its smile. 
Those eyes of sweet sympathy's hue; 

You go! but what dream shall our bosoms beguile. 
Enchanted no longer by you? 



8Q 



OCCASIONAL. 

EYMlSrS WEITTEIir FOK THE OPENING AND CLOSE OF A CHUIICR JUBICI* 

TORY. 



Irradiate Thou ! although thy throne 
Is based upon revolving spheres, 
Though attributes are thine alone 
In number, countless as thy years, — 
Though 'neatli thy feet is darkness spread. 
There the hushed thunders, trembling, lie, — 
Though in thy presence, fraught with dread^ 
The unveiled v^orshipper may die,-— 



Yet we, O God! a feeble band. 

In Jesus, may acceptance claim; 

Yet we, the creatures of thy hand, 

May come, and breathe a Father's name ! 

Lord of Assemblies ! O inspire 

Our hearts with eloquence of prayer; 

From yonder temple waft the fire. 

That glows upon thine altar there. 



While we approach the mercy-seat. 
Once hidden, but in Christ restored. 
And tread with unpresuming feet, 
The place of Holiest to the Lord,— 



81 



Hear TIiou in heaven, and impart 
Some ray tliat burns and cheers above. 
The tlirill that tells iis where Tnou art, 
Dread Uncreate! is light and love. 



Thou art Almighty — we are dust, — 

Tliou art All-seeing,— finite we. 

In judgment erring, — Thou art just. 

Fountain of strength ! we draw from thee; — 

Shine on our councils, — Rise, thou Star 

Of David, chase the nigiit away! 

Bid Faitli^s strong vision look afar 

To Thee, the Light, the Tkuth, the Way ! 



II. 



Father! thine altar reared above, 
Burns bright before the viewless throne 5 
We bring the sacrifice of love, 
The fire descends from Thee alone. 

Ages, untold, with Thee combine, 
Yet mortals Avoiild thy notice share; 
The sinless Cherub guards thy slirine, 
Yet dust would claim acceptance there. 

£ F 



8S 



We come, and while the broken heart, 
Yields thine own incense, — sorrow's tear,-— 
Father! thou wilt not hid ^depart!' 
The Mak of Nazareth, thou wilt hear. 

Once more in flesh, before thy seat. 

Dweller in Light! behold, ^we pray!^ 
We ask thy lamp to guide our feet. 
Pillar of heaven! glide on the way* 

Our strength is weakness, — sourceless God! 
Thy children's Trust from age to age. 
Look on our labours, own thy Word^ 
And give thy Son his heritage^ 

We part,— O Thou Eternal Dove! 
Eadiance! that once on Jesus shone. 
Descend, heal every breach of love, 
Vvitli kindly unction of thine own. 

We part!— the oft frequented place. 

Once known, shall now be known no more| 

United, have w^e sought Thy face. 
Join us on yon returnless shore. 

We part! — Omnipotent Unseen! 
We meet where love with Thee doth dwells 
Where no dark valley lies between 
Those who on earth have wept ^ farewelL^ 



83 



THE INCENDIARY. 

His brow is stern, and his cheek is cold, 

In his scowl sits fierce despair; 
His visage is sunk, his eye is bold, 

The deed of darkness is there. 

For him, affection nurtures no charm, 

No tear hath the ruffian shed ; 
Kind mercy, to him can whisper no balm^ 

His bosom is seared and dead. 

For him, no dream of innocence rose, 

No rapture can memory impart; 
The genial tide of compassion is froze^ 

Revenge hath withered his heart. 

The bliss of a home he ne'er can feel, 
Its sweets, his curses would blight; 

He grasps the brand, and the thirsty steely 
Desolation and death his delight. 

In the cavern of crime, his haunt is known — 
There the furies of blasphf my dwell : 

At midnight, tiie torch of destruction is blown., 
And he writhes with the laugh of hell ! 



84 



MEMENTO OF A YOUNG FRIEND, 

Whek genius dies, affectioii^s tear 
Impearls the a\ orth it could not save| 

The burst of grief — of memory dear, 
Sighs o'er the dust, and ^dews the grave. 

When youth departs, when life's gay bloom, 
Is rudely crushed on pleasure's breast^ 

We mourn the tendril's early doom, 
And weep the charms that love carest. 

Dear youth! for thee I breathe the sigh. 
Yet whispering Hope beguiles the pain; 

I mourn, but Faith's immortal eye 
Sees regions, where we meet again ! 

I weep no more — but to thy urn 
Oft wander, by remembrance led ; 

And watch thy turf when spring's return, 
Strews the young flow'ret o'er thy bed. 



The soul released from feeble clay, 
Diinks at the fount of living day; 
She basks in fields of bliss above. 
Inflamed with holy, quenchless love ; 



85 



The objects that eacli sense refine, 
Spring from the Source of joy divine; 
Their zest, fiaiition ne'er can pall, 
^Tis lasting as the ALii in ai.l! 

Come then! O pleasing — awful hour, 
That frees me from each slavisli power; 
Thou Comforter! calm every fear, 
Saviour! O wipe the trembling tear! 
Some sister angel hover nigh. 
Compose my coucli^ — receive the sigh, 
And sweetly whispering, sSoul, be free!' 
Bear me away, my God ! to thee* 



We wander in a thorny maze, 

A vale of doubts and fears; 
A night, illumed with sickly rays, 

A wilderness of tears : 
We wander, bound to empty show, 

The slaves of boasted will; 
We wander, dupes to hope untrue^ 

And love to w ander still. 

We w ander, — w hile unfading joy. 
We ne'er with zest approve; 

The bliss that sparkles to destroy, 
Secures our warmest love; 



86 



Some syren leads our steps astray, 
But speaks no peace within; 

We wander in a flowery w ay. 
We wander, heirs of sin! 

We wander — but though oft we roam. 

Led by allurement strong. 
Yet from our heavenly Father's home. 

We would not wander long! 
Cleanse us, Saviour! from this stain. 

In mercy's living iiood; 
Restore the lost, and bring again 

The wanderer back to God ! 



THE ORPHAN ASYLUM. 

I SAW the hapless orphan child. 

With early grief opprest; 
I marked its look — 'twas sad and w^ld, 

'^Twas sorrow rent its breasL 

The morning sun, that sweetly shone, 
The clouds of care o'crcast; 

The winds of heaven had rudely blown, 
It shivered in the blast* 



8r 

I saw — ^twas Pity^s lovely fornix 

Yes, angel Woman! thou 
Didst shield the trembler from the storm 

Didst wipe its haggard brow! 

With soothing accents, gently drawn, 

To virtue^s peacefal home; 
No longer would the wretch forlorn, 

A friendless wanderer roam. 

I heard those lips, once wan with wo^ 
The Orphan^s tribute share; 

Those eyes, I saw, with joy overflow. 
Those hands were raised in prayer. 

This, said my heart, is sympathy, 
That teacheth kindness still : 

And this the heaven-born Charity, 
That never thinketh ill ! 



A POET'S EPITAPH, 

WanbetjefJ who mark^st with careless eye^ 
The turf that shrouds its kin from view; 
Pause! and a moment, give the sigh. 
Pause— and the lowly spot bedew! 



8S 



The heart that coldly withers here^ 
Was once compassion's sacred throne ^ 
The bosom, fraught with pity's tear. 
Wept every sorrow but its own. 
His soul was free, and proudly there, 
Glowed the warm throb, unknown to guile j 
With Avarice he disdained to share. 
Or court the haughty rich man's smile. 
For him, arose not pleasure's dream, 
No flower to cheer his path was given^ 
Yet keen his bliss, when, Hope his theme. 
He seized the lyre, and found a heaven! 
Weep not! his humble virtues live. 
His errors are recalled no more ; 
'Neath the rough storm, too frail to thrive. 
He gladly sought a kindlier shore. 



Mary! take this brilliant gem, 
'Tis from Golconda's richest mine| 

1 would it were a diadem. 

Dear maid ! the treasure should be thine. 

Sparkling with nature's modest glow, 
Unnumbered beauties thou mayst see; 

'Tis chaste as virtue's self, and so 
Sweet giri ! it doth resemble thee. 



i 



89 



SONG OF DEBORAH AND BARAK. 

Judges v. 4. 

Lord! Avlien thou went'st in might from Seir, 
And dreadful march'dst from Edom's field, 
The hoary mountains quaked witli fear. 
Earth trembled at thy burning shield. 

Thy wheels were heard, and ocean fled. 
The heavens were scrolled beneath tliy feet; 
The old foundations shook with dread. 
When wrath pavilioned round thy seat. 

We praise thee, Lord ! alone possest 
Of all that's high, or greatly fair; 
Though darkness is thy chosen rest. 
Yet mercy beams divinely there! 



Detested deed! how curst are they, 
Their plunge in crime, how doubly deep* 
Who boast of mild Religion's sway. 
Yet leave their race in chains to weep ! 

H 



96 



My country! shall it ever be. 

That tliou, escaped from slavery's rod. 

Thou, only happy — only free, 

Shalt barter, too, the price of blood ? 

Say ! shall the offspring of that soil. 
Which smokes e'en now with veteran gore. 
Be sharers in the cruel spoil, 
That desolates the Afric shore? 

* Forbid it heaven!' each freeman cries, 
-Forbid it feeling, manhood, shame!' 
Then haste! avert the sacrifice, 
And cleanse thy proud, thy sullied name* 



CONGRESS OF 1776. 

IxiiiJSTiiious band! whose heaven attested deed. 
Secured existence to a rising worlds 
Whose generous hearts were ever prompt to bleed^ 
When godlike Liberty her scroll unfurled : 

Look down, ye sainted, venerable men. 

And bless the country of your earlicvst love; 
Inspire your ofispring, and O bid again, 

Llie Same of Yirtue overj impulse move* 



91 



[mmortal Patriots ! round cacli awful name, 
[ see the halo of unnumbered years, — 
Innals unknown, your miglity worth proclaim 
4.nd deathless time your memory endears ! 



Yes, life is but a waste, 

A cheerless pathway, where 

No healthy fruit allures the taste. 

No flowerets balm the air. 

If Love 
The wild rose, ne^er luxuriates there* 

Love is a guide, when lorn 

The wanderer is astray, 

^Mid dangers, and no star of dawn 

To smile upon his way ; 

'Tis Love 
Burns on the cloud, the gem of day! 

Along affliction's coast. 
Hard by despair's grim shoal. 
She shines on him, the tempest tost, 
The light-house of the soul; 
And guides 
Where storms i^epose, no oceans roll. 



92 



thou Inspirer! who 

Sang to my infancy, 

And half Iife/s nigged journey through 

Hast still attended me, 

I consecrate 
My all to thee, to only thee ! 

When pleasure's mellow note 
Allured me to her howers, 
Thoii bad'st kind dreams of fancy float 
Along the white-wing'd hours. 

Thy smile 
Did'st strew existence' path with flowers. 

The lightning crossed my way^ 
Thou cam'st and in its scathe, 

1 but discerned the tempered ray 
Of Love, around my path, — 

A pillar given 
When all was tempest^ night and wrath. 



Be nigh at the dread hour 
Of nature's utmost need. 
When unknown shadowy worlds appear. 
And unreal scenes recede, , 

then the spirit cheer, | 

And bid it on its passage speed ! 



93 
PRAYER, 

FOR THE AFRICAN ^IISSIOIT. 

Thott Uncreate! whose dread decrees 

The elements obey ; 
Who rul'st the tempest and the seas. 

With undivided sway — 
To Thee, Supreme, we raise the prayer. 

In Jesus' name we bow — 
That Thou would'st make the Church thy care, 

And bid Salvation flow. 



Be Thou, O God! with those that tread 

The ocean's dangerous way; 
Who go wliere love hath never shed 

Redemption's living ray. 
God of the billow! O enfold 

Their barque, when dangers rise. 
And light their course, as when of old. 

Thy cloud illumed the skies ! 



And Thou, who walk'st the mountain foam^^ 
And stilPst the waves to sleep — 

Deign Thou to pillow those that roam, 
And guide them o'er the deep ; 

2h 



94 



From sultry lieat and burning waste^ 

Protect the little band. 
Shine on each heart, and bid them taste^^ 

Thy strength in Afric^s land* 

Thou common Father of mankind! 
O smile upon thine own ; 

The Ethiopian's yoke unbind. 
Hear thou the captive^'s moan; 

The cause, Ood ! alone is thine, 
We trust the eternal Word, 

And hail thy Missions as the sign, 

That all shall know the Lord ! 



Hast thou seen the cloud of morning 
Veil with gloom the '-azure sky? 

Hast thou marked the rosy dawning, 
Wrapt in boding darkness fly? 

Thus each hope is fleeting ever. 

Pleasure meets us, soon to sever! 

Hast thou seen^ — -the tempest over— 
Radiant suns again illume ; 

Thi^eatening storms no longer hover, 

Nature bud with fresher bloom? 
ThuF^, tliroogh darkest clouds of even. 
Smiles the opening dawn of Heaven ! 



95 



In Lebanon the floweret bloomed, with native charms 
arrayed, 

The skies ol' Eden lent it hue, and Ascalon the sliade; 

The breeze of Shaj'on o'er it sighed, it wept in eve- 
ning's showei*. 

The sunbeam woke, while Hermon's dew impearled 
the beauteous flower. 

How proudly rose its graceful stem, like Shenir's 

clustering \ine, 
Queen of Engedi's pleasant vale — fair flower of 

Palestine ! 
Whither hath now its beauty flown, ah ! where the 

rich perfume? 
Why should the lovely floweret fade, why dies its 

early bloom? 

The prophet, Loiid ! beholds no more tliy flower its 
sweets disclose — 

The maids of Syria pass away, they shun the droop- 
ing rose; 

Return! ye genial suns, return— ye dews of heaven 
revive; 

Breathe, ye zephyrs ! on this stem, and bid the 
floweret live!"^ 

* Awake, o north wind, and come tboii south ! blow upon 
my garden that the spices thereof may flow om. 

CmiticleSi iv. 16. 



96 



SUBLIMITY OF GENIUS. 

Genius, 'mid danger, still is ever seen^ 
And courts each object of terrific mien; 
The soul, enwrapt in Fancy's magic power. 
Sees smiles in gloom, and suns where tempests lour j 
Loves the drear solitude, seeks shades of night, 
'Mid stern destruction towers in conscious might; 
In the loud tempest, oft alone would stray, 
And view with strange delight, the forky fluid play. 
Enthusiastic, climbs the dreadful steep. 
With eye intent, to catch the yawning deep; 
While the frail barque on billowy horror rides. 
Studies the curling wave that mounts its quivering 
sides. '^ . 



* It was my lot to be intimate with a young artist, now no 
more, whose unconnmon talents, devoted to the pencil, pro- 
mised him a niche in the rising Temple of American Genius. 
It was his delight during the fury of the tempest, to gaze on 
the iightning-cloud,to mark with enthusiasm the furious war, 
and v/ith rapid sketch arrest the prominent features of the 
scene Some of the happiest hours of Henry Kirke White, 
well known to the lovers of rational poetry, were those of 
midnigh passed in a deep forest, amid the sublimity of a 
fhunder storm. 



97 



GENESIS, V. 24. 

He was not, for God took him. — On the mighty wing 
Of the obedient whirlwind, forth, the prophet rode, 
^Mid wilds of ether, where no foot had trode; 
Where unknown worlds, and suns, revolving, sing. 
Favored of the Most High! 'twas thine alone, 
Unracked by pangs known to mortality, — 
In robes of clay to wander near the throne. 
In flesli to enter thine eternity. 
Thou waiked'st with tiie Godhead, boon divine, 
Unknown to Angels; Christian worshipper! 
When nations rouud thee sought another shrine, 
Tiie God of promise claimed thy homage ; ne'er 
Could the impious shake thy faith, thy heaven 
Began on earth. Though t?tbernacled here. 
Communion high, and vast, to thee was given, 
And mystic invitation to thy sphere. 



THE DESERTER. 

His cheek was pale, and wildly there 
Was seen the withering blanch of wo^ 

His eye was fixed, its lurid glare 
Bespoke the heart's convulsive throe* 



98 



I heard the slowly passing feiiell. 
The fatal moments swiftly sped — 

1 ishuddered as the signal fell, 

I saw him numbered with the dead! 

Unwept, he found an early tomh. 
No kindly hand bestrewed the bier; 

Unknown, he fell in youthful bloom. 
Forgotten was affection's tear. 

And such, accursed Wau! I said, 
Thy ills, and such thy hateful stain; 

Nurtured by thee, the heart grows dead^ 
And sighing Virtue pleads in vain. 



On Judah^s plain the minstrel lyre 

Is hushed, for mirth has winged its flight; 

In Z ion's courts the holy fire 

Is quenched, and sorrow veils the nights 

No sound disturbs thee, Solyma! 
Save some disciple's lowly moan — 
No lamp illumes yon vaulted way. 
Save one pale orb that burns alone. 



99 



^Tis Bethlehem's Stai*! tlie holy gem, 
That hailed the Godhead iVoui the skies 5 
^Tis Bethlehem's Star— the diadem. 
That tells the Conqueror shall rise! 

He rises! and the golden choir 
Of angel minstrels, wakes the song! 
He rises — mortals catch the fire. 
And strains of ecstacy prolong ! 



I SAW the Goddess grasp her wand. 
The symbol shone afar: 
I saw her rear the severing brand, 
The panoply of war. 

From Ocean^s isle, her hoary seat, 
She smote the subject sea; 
The billovvs tumbled at her feet. 
Her name was Victory. 

I saw, beyond Atlanta's wild. 
The heir of deathless fame, 
Rude Persecution's lovely child, 
And Valour was her name. 



100 

Briglit trophies, towering, formed her crest., 
Fresh laurels wreathed her hair; 
^Twas virtue fired her youthful breast, 
^Twas Freedom flourished theire. 

Unarmed, she dared the dreadful blow^ 
She shook Oppression's throne, 
Proud \ AxouK met the insulting foe^ 
And Victory was her own ! 



VISION OF THE HEBREW- 

Habakkuk III. 3 — 10* 

The Eternal God, the dread, from Teman came^ 
The Holy One from Param, clothed in might! 

His glory shone with everlasting flame — 
His brightness, beaming with effulgent lights 
Dispersed afar the shades of fearful night. 

Before him went the pestilential train. 
And burning coals were scattered in his path| 
He vstood and measured earth^s domain — 
He touched the hills — the hills were rent in twain 
He saVi, and drove his enemies in wrath ^ 

The mountains lied, the hills, perpetual, bowed. 
And quivering nature sought oblivion'^s shroud! 



101 



1 saw the tents of lofty Cuslian mourn — 
Proud Midian trembled, of her glory shorn ^ 

The nations melted when Tiiou didst appear! 
The waters past, majestically, by — 
The deep was heard — his hands were lifted high : 
Thine arrows gleamed, and with thy sliining spear, 
Thou walkedst, O God! to bring thy vengeance 
nigh. 



FoRSiiKEN is Nazareth of fair Galilee, 
The beauty of Israel is scattered abroad; 
No more wakes the timbrel on Gadarene's sea, 
Desolation hath trophied the city of God. 

Was it thus, thou Lonely ! in days of thy boast, 
When the lamp of the Mighty illumined afar? 
When the song of the minstrel was heard on thy 

coast, 
When the young dawn appeared, long foretold by the 

star ? 

Was it thus, O Forsaken ! when tidings of love. 
The Cherub that worshipped, proclaimed from the 

skies,- — ' 
Immanuel with mortals! a God from above! 
A Shiloh to Israel — the last Sacrifice 



10^ 



Return! ye bright ages, to Nazareth give^^ 

Ye days of the propiiet ! revisit again, 

When, caught from yon altar, the sun-ray of heaven 

Shall bear peace to nations, and good will to men! 



CHARLES H. PARKER. 

Pabkeu! there are flowers for thee,— 
Friendship^s hand shall wreath them : 
Parker ! there are songs for thee,— 
Memory sliall breathe them ! 
Hasten, maidens ! to his tomb. 
All that's lovely there reposes, — 
Strew the turf with Flora's bloom. 
Strew the bed with early roses ! 

Thine was pleasure's halcyon morn. 
Thine were skies unclouded 5 
Weep! for soon the smiling dawn. 
Was in darkness shrouded ; 
Thine was talent, worth was thine. 
Thy bosom, feeling's portal, — 
Who shall weep ? — at yonder shrine 
Thou flourishest immortal I 



103 

There are tears when niaiiliood sleeps. 

With corruption blended; 

There is balm when friendship weeps 

Genius, worth, ascended! 

Yes, we wept, when thou didst not, — 

Shade! forgive the error; 

Yea, we tremble, thou couldst not, 

At the king of terror. 

Farewell, farewell — Spirit! yet 
Say, 'tis not forever; — 
Farewell, farewell! 'tis to meet^ 
Meet, no more to sever; 
Skies may vanish — earth decay — 
Honour, Virtue, fly not; 
Worlds on worlds may roll away, 
Genius, Feexing, die not! 



*UAN LIETH DOWN, AND RISETH NOT AGAIN, TILL THE HEAVENS BB 
NO MORE.— Jo6. 



Soft are the slumbers of the reckless tomb ; 

Quiet dwells there,— its inmate brooding peace: 
The still inhabitant heeds not the gloom 
Of night, nor starts when morn awakes in bloom. 

The w andener rests, and cares and sorrow s cease. 



104 



Yet shall tliese forms forever pillow there? 
Shall (lust with dust its lasting kin compare? 

0, Thou Unseen! shall thy creation sleep. 
Mingled with earth, and dark corruption share, 

Where silence, drear, and death, their vigils keep? 
We bless Thee for the cheering hope revealed. 

Where Ihspiration sheds its living ray. 
Which, (juickening vision, shows the grave unsealed^ 

And myriads rising to eternal Day! 



When o^er long night the bursting dawii^ 

In youthful bloom appeared ; 
When Angels hymned the rising morn^ 

And songs in heaven were heard ^ 
Amid the burning orbs that gem'd 

Jehovah's viewless throne, — « 
In native glory diademed. 

One Star illumed alone^ 

On Palestine, fair Solyma, 

Benignantly serene. 
Precursor of a brighter day. 

The harbinger was seen : 
The captive saw the symbol shine— 

His broken fetters fell ; 
The Shepherd marked the peerless sign 

That told Immanuei^ ! 



105 

In latter time we view it burn^ 

With undiminished ray; 
It leads the Pagan's glad return. 

It clieers the wanderer's way; 
With influence sweet, illuming far^ 

Its beam to peace inclines ; 
From East to West, the holy star^ 

The star of Jesus shines! 



LA FAYETTE. 

Son of valor ! Heir of glory ! 

Noble by the patriot's line; 

Gallant warrior! Chieftain hoary! 

Immortality is thine. 

Wreath the laurel. Muses ! wreatli it, 

*Tis for no ignoble name; 

Breathe the song, Inspirers ! breathe it^ 

Worthy of the Vet'rari's fame! 

When a people, true to bravery. 
Saw the storm-cloud gathering nigh, 
Heard the manacles of slavery 
Rattle in the turbid sky, — 
Triumph! thou, who liv'st to say it. 
Then arose proud Victory's son^— 

2 I 



106 

Crushed is slavery ! for La Fayette 
Wears the meed that valor won ! 

Haste! ye nobles^ vainly borrow 
Lustre from the scroll of peers. 
While it dies, the name of Warrior 
Brightens with the touch of years! 
And, though mingled with his fathers^ 
In the slumbers of the tomb. 
Time, who saps the palace, gathers 
For the Hero, fresher bloom. 

Go, and mark him ! — shades of even 
Soon shall lurk around his bed,— 
Go, and mark him ! — winds of heaven 
Soon shall sweep tliat wintry head,— 
Yet with flowers will we array it. 
Fairer than the poet^s dream; 
Perish Silence ! when La Fayette 
Is a nation's grateful theme ! 



STAR OF THE SHEPHERD. 

The minstrels of Judah have sunk to their rest; 

The song and the tabret no longer are heard j 
The watchmen of Zion, with slumber opprest 

Repose on the w alls where the Syrian appeared. 



lor 

And the beauty of Israel, forgotten, hath fled. 
And darkness envelops Jerusalem now, — 

No night-lamp illumines the place of the dead, 
Save the star that beams lonely on Olivet's brow. 

'*Tis the Star of the Shepherd ! and long hatli it shone 
With the gems of the morning, on Galilee^s plain; 

^Tis the herald of Bethlehem ! but palely, alone. 
Gleams the purest and loveliest of night's azure 
train. 

Shall the herald of Bethlehem in sadness appear? 

The symbol no longer on Solyma shine? 
Shall the Star of the Sheplierd, once lovely and clear^ 

Die away o'er the mountains of fair Palestine? 

Rejoice! — for the Daughter of Jodah, no more. 
Shall array in the sackcloth, Zion, for thee ; 

Thy light hath arisen! from Egypt's dark shore 
It illumines afar to Gennesaret's Sea. 



MISSION TO THE SANDWICH ISLANDS. 

Wake, Isles of the South! your redemption is near, 
No longer repose in the borders of gloom ; 
The Strength of His chosen, in love will appear, 
And light shall arise on the verge of the tomb ! 



108 



The billows that girt ye, the wild waves that roar^ 
The zephyrs t]iat play where the ocean-storms cease^ 
Shall bear the rich freight to your desolate shore. 
Shall waft the glad tidings of pardon and peace. 

On the islands that sit in the regions of nighty 
The lands of despair, to oblivion a prey, 
The morning will open with healing and light. 
The young star of Bethlehem will ripen to Day! 

The altar and idol in dust overthrown, 
The incense forbade that was hallowed with blood,— 
The Priest of Melchisedec there shall atone. 
And the shrines of Atooi be sacred to God ! 

The heathen will hasten to welcome the time. 
The day-spring, the prophet, in vision, once saw^ — 
When the beams of Messiah will 'lumine each clime, 
And the isles of the ocean shall wait for his law. 

And thou, Obookiah!^ now sainted above. 
Wilt rejoice as the heralds their mission disclose ^ 
And the prayer will be heard, that the land thou 

didst love, 
May blossom as Sharon, and bud as the rose ! 

* Henry Obookiah, a young native of the Sandwich isles, 
arrived in Araerica a few years since, and whiie preparing to 
return to his countrymen as a Christian preacher, died at 
Cornwall, Connecticut. 



109 



THE BROOK KEDRON- 

The day hath fled, on Salem's tower 

The trembline; moon-beam calmly shines 5 

Hushed is tlie song- in court and bower. 
And worshipless the lioly shrines, 

^Tis night, Jerusalem is still. 

And lost in sleep are bond and freej 

Her streets, her vale, the holy hill 
Repose in sweet tranquillity. 

Repose they all? — have none from sleep 

Aroused, to sigh o'er Zion's blights- 
Retire not some, alone, to weep — 
Wake not a faithful few this night? 

Yes! and along the beetling brow 

Of his beloved Ulivet| 
The Man, afflicted, wanders now. 

And there have his disciples met. 

How sad the greeting! who may tell 
The tenderness v^ hich in that look 

Burst forth, wlien Jesus wept farewell 
To those he loved, by Ked^on^s brook! 



110 
SONG OF MIRIAM, 

THE PROPHETESS.* 

Sing ye to Him whose wondrous power^ 
Arrayed in viewless dread — 

Hath blighted the Egyptian's fiower. 
And strewed his place with dead. 

Sing ye to Him who walled the path. 

That ransomed Israel trod ; 
Who brouglit again the billowy wrath, 

At his Almighty rod« 

Sing ye to Him who rode the cloud. 
And turned the night to day; 

Who crushed the chariots of the proud, 
Whose pillar led the way. 

Sing to the Lord ! whose arm alone, 

Hath cleft the foaming sea; 
The horse, and rider, overthrown. 

And set the captive free. 



* And Miriam the prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a 
timbrel in her hand: and Miriam answered them, Sing ye to 
the Lordj for he hath triun^phed gloriously .-^J^:rods v. ^0, 21. 



ill 



iHfH I SAIB, O THAT I HAD WIXGS LIKE A DOVE, FOR THEJf WOULD I 
FLY AWAX AND BE AT REST. JDavtd, 



The soul that wings her airy flight 

To yonder fields of starry blue, 
"With rapture gT< ets empyrion light. 

And basks in pleasures ever new; 
And if — enthroned in bliss above, 

She bends a lingering look below. 
Doth not some throb of pity move. 

For those that tread this vale of wo? 



! could I stretch my pathless way 

To climes afar, how small would seem 
The griefs that cloud this feeble day. 

The joys that gild life's passing dream 
Then would I smile — the secret tear. 

If tear might wet those courts of joy, — 
Would flee, and love, serene, endear 

The angel bliss that ne'er can cloy. 



Yet, courage ! — thougli the angry storm 
Hath spent its force around thy head; 

Though sorrows lurk in every form. 
And all but trembling hope hath fled: 



im 



Yet burns there stiil, a steady ray, 
For tijose that weep in sunless gloom^ 

The Star that points the wanderer's way^ 
Religion— shines beyond the tomb ! 



Beautiful Scio! thou wast fair^ 
Gem of the Archipelago ! 
Thou shon'st like morning's lovely star 
Rivaling its sisters | — thine the glow 
Of skies, deliciously serene. 
Along thy vales the evergreen 
The vine and olive flourished, — 
Thy maidens dwelt with innocence, 
Thy young men, Liberty had nourished. 
Her proud invincible defence ; 
Beautiful Scio ! thou wast fair. 
Gem of the Archipelago! 
At morn, a voice was heard in thee, 
It was the voice of gladness, — 
The star of peace arose on thee, 
'Tis shrouded now in sadness ! 
Star of the Grecian ! thou hast set 
In darkness, o^er yon Eden-isle; 
Thine altars falPn, the minaret 
Rises o'er tears, and blood, and spoil ! 



11 



c> 



And thou art now a liidcoiis wild 
Where reckless Ruin drives its sliare 
O'er hapless mother and the child. 
Beautiful Scio! once so fair. 
Gem of the Archipelago ! 



O SAY, have you seen the meteor of night. 
Exhaling its dim and w^andering light. 
So cheerless the ray, and ominous bright? 
It sheds a gleam where no flower will grow^ 
It hovers o'er relics that moulder below. 



O say, can you tell of the Siroc air. 

That sweeps the wild desert, all lonely and hare, 

^riie dreary abode of brooding despair? — 

To the wretch, sad and wildered, no balm can it 
bring. 

It pierces his soul with its scorpion sting. 

And such the Dissembler's baleful eye. 
And such the Seducer's treacherous sigh. 
When to whisper delusion the demon is nigh^ 
The hapless bosom is seared with the flame. 
And lost the pure blush in the crimson of shame- 



ii4 

GRAVE OF TELL. 

The wild rose lifts its head^ 

The weeping alders grow^ 
The aged thorr? hath shed 

Its flower in valley low| 
Where ^neath the fir-tree green^ 

Which shades the lonely deli^ 
The moss-grown cairn is seen. 

That marks the Grave of Tell! 

The warrior hastens there. 

His tribute, sad, to pay. 
The pilgrim breathes a prayer. 

The minstrel wakes the lay| 
And oft the maiden^s tear 

Hath on the primrose fell ; 
That blooms where lone and drear 

Is seen the Grave of Tell. 

The soldier grasps the brand. 

For war and valor's spoil, — - 
To revenge a bleeding land. 

To free his natal soil: 
As memory opes the scroll 

Of death to tyrants fell | 
When at the war-drum's rolJ^ 

Arose the might of Tell! 



115 

When on the Grison brow, 

The ban'ret was unfurled ; 
When in Lucerne low, 

The spearman's steel was hurled 3 
'Twas then tlie arrowed dart. 

Unerring, told the knell. 
Of many a ruthless heart, 

Tlie foe of Right and Tell. 

The shout was long and loud. 

That crowned the battle fray. 
The laurel fair and proud. 

That wreathed the victor day ! 
Gone is tlie patriot flame. 

It sank when Freedom fell — 
And sleeps Helvetia's fame. 

Within the Grave of Tell! 



^Tis to the East the Hebrew bends^ 

When morn unveils its brow; 
And while the evening rite ascends. 

The East receives his vow: 
Dear to the exile is the soil 

That reared Jehovah's Vine — 
Dear to the wretched heir of toil, 

Thy memory, Palestine ! 



116 

'Tis to the East the Hebrew tunij?^ 

The clime to prescience dear; 
When kindling recollection burns. 

When memory claims the tear: 
Land of the Patriarch! he recalls. 

The days of promise, when 
The timbrel rang along thy halls^ 

And God communed with men. 

Wliere Babel wept Judea's wrongS;^ 

The banished Hebrew sighs | 
Where Zion swelled her holy songs. 

His tribute seems to rise; 
And hope still wings his thought afar. 

It tells to those that roam. 
That He who rode the cloudy car, 

Will guide his people home. 



To thee MissouEi! fancy woke the strain, 
While prescience hailed Compassion's simple lay. 
She fearless sang of Freedom's sylvan reign, 
When SiiAYERY^s night should yield to smiling day* 

Raptured, she soared to fields of Eden-bloom, 
And winged Jier way to hope^s Elysian sphere,— 
Alas ! how changed ! the vision fades in gloom, 
And naught remains but Pity's lonely tear! 



117 



Shame on tlie heart where avarice shrines a rest, 
And bids its victim seal the Afric's knell ! 
Shame on my country! tliat within her breast. 
The hireling advocates of Slavery dwell. 

Yet shall not feeling, manhood, ever sleep, 
The Star of Liberty sets not in night, — 
Where now, in solitude, its votaries weep. 
Shall glory rise, with new effulgence, bright. 

Some happier age, in Legislation ^s halls. 
Thou, Eloquence! wilt break the accursed chain,- 
While Freedom's Genius towers along the walls. 
Nature shall plead—nor plead her rights in vain ! 



SONG OF JACOB 

TO RACHEL, 

O, WHO is she ! ye swains declare. 
What Shepherdess that w^anders nigh? 
Is slie a form of earth, or air. 
The maid that meets my ravished eye? 

Her locks are gemM with Hermon's dew. 
Like night's star-ray her smiles are seen j 
Her eyes of morn's cerulean hue. 
Speak all the spotless soul within. 



118 

With sandals girt, to Haran*s well^ 
At noon the fainting Hebrew came; 
Her cliai'ms he heard the Shepherds tell^ 
They sang of love, and Syria's Dame* 

The maid that smiles so sweetly fain 
Shall bless the weary pilgrim's toil; 
Like Sharon's rose her beauties are, 
The flower of blooming Padan's soiL 



MUSIC. 

Thou dear enchantress of the soul ! 

Whose magic skill, life's ills canst calm; 
Whose nod can bid the whirlwind roll, 

W hose whisper can its rage disarm : 

Sweet Music ! I invoke thy power. 

Thou bid'st th.e aspiring spirit rise; 
Thou charm'st existence' tearful hour, 

• Thou point'st each hope to yonder skies* 

In life's drear maze I've wildered long. 
And sought for peace, but none could find^- 

Till listening to the thrilling sons:, 
My bosom owned its influence kind^ 



119 

0, if to finite state be given, 
Some emanation from above, — 

Some foretaste of a brigbter beaven^ 
^Tis Music from tbe lips we love. 



And Babylon, the glory of kingdoms, the beauty of the 

ChALDEE's excellency, shall be OVERTHROWN; THE WILD BEAST 
OF THE ISLAND SHALL CRY IN HER DESOLATE HOUSES. IsaiaJl, 

The mart is a desert, and lone is tbe ball, 
Wbere tbe minstrel lent airs to tbe song and tbe feast i 
Tbe fortress batb fallen, tbe fox treads tbe wall 
Tbat girded tbee, Babylon! Queen of tbe East. 

How fair were tby graces, tbou mistress of art, 
Tby daiigbters bow^ lovely! in purple tbey sbone. 
But tbe mercbant tbat 'rayed tbee, batb seen thee 

depart, 
xind tbe motber of nations now wanders alone. 

Tbe trumpet of gladness no longer sball sound, 
Tbe voice of tbe barper in slumber is sealed; 
Tbe beauty of Cbaidee no more will be found. 
For the lamp of tbe Holy illumes unrevealed! 

The treasures of Opliir, tbe gem of the deep, 
The myrrh and the incense no solace afford: 



ISO 



Thy virgins, thy nobles, in solitude weep, 

The march of the Syrian, the scathe of the Lord. 

Rejoice, ye Apostles ! thou heaven behold ! 

Ye martyrs, give strains to the Highest again | 

Jehovah his chosen in love shall enfold, 

And avenge the rich blood of the captive and slain. 



The rose that decks the laughing dale, is fair to 
every view. 

Its fragrant sweets embalm the gale, it buds with 
varied hue ; 

Sweet is the rose — but in its bower, with proud, in- 
truding mien, 

Companion of the beauteous flower, the rugged thorn 
is seen. 

The lily to the fancy dear, in nature's vest is 'rayed. 
It vies with morning's brilliant tear, and loves the 

humble shade — 
The lily of the vale is fair, the queen of Flora's bed : 
But cheerless and unsightly there, the bramble rears 

its head. 

There is a land \^hose favoured soil, sees vernal 

flowerets bloom. 
Where cloudless skies forever smile, and cheering 

suns illume j 



121 



Immortal plants of Eden, fair, those Lcavenly fields 

adorn ; 
The lily blooms unspotted there, and flowers without 

a thorn ! 



HENRY KIRKE WHITE, 

Beau minstrel! when I breathe thy name;, 

What images of peace arise! 
My spirit longs to catch thy flame, 

And seek thee in thy native skies. 

How true, how holy is the fire, 
That trembles o'er thy magic line! 

Devotion strung thy early lyre, 

The glow that thrilled thee, was divine. 

Immortal now, thy wish is known, 
^Tis registered in Virtue's breast | 

While ages shall her graces own. 
Their annals shall thy worth attest. 

Feeling will linger o'er thy tomb. 
Her tribute tliere. Religion brings j 

And pilgrim Pity, maid of bloom. 
Shall listen wiiile her Poet sinscs. 



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AN EVENING THOUGHT. 

Hast thou^ my sowl! improved each powei 
With zeal, this day, for God and Man? 
Hath diligence marked every hour. 
As though this day might close the span? 

O ! if another opening morn. 

On earth, should never smile on thee-— 

Wert thou to meet another dawn 

In yon unknown Eternity — 

Shouldst thou with grief review this day^ 
And tremble at Jehovah's rod? 
Or, would'st thou calmly soar away. 
To welcome an approving God? 



No trophied column marks his humble dust^ 
No victor laurel wreaths his plebian name. 
No weeping Naiad claims the lowly trust. 
Nor guards his manes who rests unknown to fame* 

Yet shall the sigh, to generous feeling dear, 
Proclaim his worth who scorned the faithless part| 
Yet shall kind Pity's sympathizing tear. 
Embalm the memory of an honest heart! 



125 



JOB XXV. 



The moon that shines with peerless ray^ 
The stars that gem yon vaulted way, 
Are l)rilliant to the mortal eye. 
But beamless to Infinity ! 

The brightest form on whom hath shone 
The glories of the viewless throne; 
Though burning with ethereal hue, 
Is shaded in Jehovah's view. 

What then is man? a worm of earth, 
A being of inferior birth. 
That dares usurp the Thunderer's rod. 
And justify himself witli God? 



YET once more the simple strain. 

Neglected lyre! renew the lay; 

The chord of memory touch again, 

And to the bowers of fairy childhood stra5% 

A chosen wreath let fancy twine, 

A garland to aifection dear ; 

To decorate Eliza's shrine, 

The votive offering of a heart sincere^ 



1£4 



May pleasure in her haunts he seea, 
And smiling peace the flowerets strew | 
Thou Hope illume, when storms careen: 
Where thorns intrude, ye roses ! flourish too. 

May every sweet that can endear 

Life's passage, lend to her its charm ; 

When patient suffering drops the tear. 

Thou, mild Religion ! hreathe thy soothing balm. 

And 0, when life's declining beam, 
Yields to the chastened shade of eve i 
May she glide down the w^aveless stream, 
While o'er its surface, gentle zephyrs breathe. 



REiiiGiON! thou art all a noble theme 

For inspiration, thou thyself inspired; — 

Wakener of bliss ! beyond the poet's dream^ 

Daughter of Love! in majesty attired 

Thou walk'st the heavens, yet converse hold'st with 

men ; — 
Dweller in Light! v/ithin whose ample ken 
Lies the broad realm of happiness, I greet 
Thee, Essence, not approachless ! — with glad feet 
Will I attend thee, fountain of my joy, 
And quaff* at thy right hand pleasures that ne'er will 

cloy ! 



125 



ODE TO SPAIN. 



WRITTEN, 1820. 



The midnight, fair Leon! that shroiuled thy ray, 

Is lost in the beaming cerulean of day! 

The cloud that hung o'er thee^ with darkness hath 

fled, 
The sunshine of Freedom encircles thy head ! 



How beauteous the dawn wlien the night-spell was 

broke. 
When Liberty burst the legitimate yoke^ 
When the caverns of crime were unlocked to the 

world, 
When the scroll of redemption was broadly unfurled. 



When freemen combine, say! what force can control? 
What despot withstand the proud march of the soul? 
Rejoice then! the reign of confusion is o'er. 
The sword of the lawless, gleams deathly no more! 



The engine of tyrants, the bolt and the chain, 
Ne'er shall rack, ne'er manacle thy children again-^ 
The hope of the Spaniard, the star of the brave. 
Mantles bright ou the valley, and plays on the w^ave* 



uss 



*3[1ie mart of the merchant, the cot of the poor. 
Keleased, shall repine at Oppression no more 5 
Tlie soil of the peasant is wet with no tear. 
The vale and the mountain in gladness appear* 



Thy sons, tried in valor, rejoice in the heam. 
Thy nobles, long slumbering, have scattered the 

dream : 
Pe4ce heightens each rapture, it sweetens the toiL 
^Tis dear to the Patriot, still dearer his soil! 



O, long may thy councils, rich sapience display. 
Thy monarchs direct with equitable sway. 
The Charter of Freedom, thy bulwark remain. 
And concord the pride of regenerate Spain. 



Recal then the years when the boast of the foe. 
The invader in combat, thy veterans laid low! 
In fair Saragossa, the victor was seen, 
Andalusia still triumphs in days that have been, 



Remember the altar ! the blood-stained decree, — 
The oath is recorded, that Spain shall be free! 
Then renew the proud compact, each patriot-heart 

swear. 
The Eights dearly purchased, no time shall impair; 



U7 
TO '^^-'^-'^^^^ 

UN THE DEATH OF AX INFANT BUOTHEK. 

O WEEP no more affection's doom, 

Forbid, sweet girl ! the sigh. 
This floweret crushed in morning's bloom, 

Revives, no more to die ! 

It budded gay, and fair to view. 
The pride of Love's parterre. 

But blighted soon, its tints withdrew;^ 
Too frail to blossom here. 

weep no more those graces dead. 
Those charms so dear to love, 

So sweet — from earth have only fled, 
They thrive in fields above. 

They flourish now, where early dews 

Of Eden-skies descend; 
They bourgen, where unfading hues. 

Of joy, immortal, blend. 

O then, dear girl ! thy sorrow s cease. 

Restrain afliiction's tear; 
Weep not the spirit's glad release, 

For thou shalt meet it tliere» 



i£8 



When thou calmly sleepest in the dust, love 5 
And on thy grave the tall grass grows. 
Will it be thine to think of him, love! 
Whose widowed tear, in secret, flows ? 



When thou gladly seekest thy native bowers, 
And revellest in thy Eden-bliss, 
Wilt thou not, as thou weavest yon workFs flowers^* 
Lend a thought to the few^ Love gave in this? 

When mortality's tie is loosed, and never 

Shall delights that have charmed thee, charm thea 

more. 
When the cloud of grief has gone, and forever^— 
And the sigh and tear, alike, are o'er^ 

Say, wilt thou not, sometimes, love! 

Awhile, leave the shrines that ceaseless burn— 

And warmed v/ith the glov/ of remembrance^ love! 
To the scenes of affection, fondly return? 



0, surely, thy spirit will meet in heaven. 

Some dear reminiscence of days that have flown 4, 

And the thought that to the past is given. 

Will be pure as the Holiest before the throne! 



129 



WORSHIP. 

Holy be this, as was tlic place 
To him, of Padan-aram known. 
When Abram*s God revealed his face 
And caiiglit the pilgrim to the throne: 
0, how transporting was the glow 
That thrilled his bosom, mixed with feaVj, 
*^Lo! the Eternal walks below — 
The Highest tabernacles here!^* 

Be ours, when faith and hope grow dim^ 
The glories which the Patriarch saw; 
And when we faint, may we like him 
Fresh vigour from the vision draw. 
Heaven's lightning hovered o'er his head^ 
And flashed new splendours on his view,— 
Break forth, thou Sun ! and freely shed 
Glad rays upon our Bethel too« 

^Tis ours to sojourn in a waste 
Barren and cold as Shinar's ground; 
No fruits of Eschol charm the taste. 
No streams of Meribah are found,-— 
But Thou canst bid the desert bud 
With more than Sharon's rich displays 
But Thou canst bid the cooling flood 
Gush from the rock awd cheer the way. 



— - ^4, 



J 



130 

We tread the path thy people trodC;, 
Alteriiate sunshine, bitter tears; 
Go I'hoii before, and with thy rod 
Divide the Jordan of our fears. 
Be ours the song of triumph given^ 
Angelic themes to lips of clay, — 
And ours the holy harp of heaven. 
Whose strain dissolves the soul away. 



TO — , OF NEW-YORK, 

WBITTEN DUUIKG THE PESTIiENCE OF 1822. 

Kindred ! with you, wrapt in fears^ 
Stricken by affliction's rod. 
Be it ours to mingle tears — 
We have heard the voice of God ! 
In your street, the sigh of anguishj^ 
Steals upon the shuddering ear. 
On your couch are those that languish^ 
Destined to another sphere. 

Fathers hasten to the tomb^ 
Lo, in dust the matron lies, — 
Blighted is the maiden's bloom, 
WliQr@ the sterm Death- Angd flies^ 



151 

Mute, the clieerrul note of gladness^ 
Mirth forsakes her iayourite spot, — 
Hark! the midnight sob of sadness^ 
Motliers weep — the babe is not! 

Now in deat]]'s appalling hour^ 
When the thunder-bolt is nigh, 
Spare the victims! Sovereign Power! 
Walk in robes of mercy by. 
On the wings of earnest prayer 
Shall, for these, our incense rise^— 
Wafted to yon altar, there 
Smile upon the sacrifice ! 



«■» • 



r SEE thee not, my brother! — thou art far 
From me, removed to tliv empyrion — 
Thou dwellest in the chambers of the star 
Inhabitant of yon returnless bourne, 
Where mortality comes not — yet in sleep 
I saw thee, ^Twas a vision of the night, 
When fancy, roused, no more would vigils keep« 
V/hen all within was holy, calm and bright. 
I saw thee as thou wast; — Though many a flower 
Of summer birth, has flourished on thy bed — 
Though many a cold and wintry blast has swept 
The spot where th@u hast pillowed thy head-**^ 



13£ 

The spot where I in boyhood^s laughing hour^ 
Forgot my mirth and o^er thy memory wept; 
My brother! I saw^ thee, and thou didst seem 
Like naught of earth — a shadowy, pleasing dream**** 
A voiceless vision, beckoning me away 
To skiey fields, where love^s pure fountain flows 
^Mid landscapes, sunnM by an unclouded day^ 
Where pilgrims dwell — the weary find repose. 
Methought ^twas by a river's brink we walked: 
How touching was night's silence! Echo talked 
Along the breezes, on the eddying air 
Came dying murmurs; — music, too, was there^ 
Music unheard, yet felt, the harmony 
That soothes the spirit in the parting hour. 
That hails the disembodied to their bower* 
'^Twas invitation all ; — I strove to follow thee — 
My brother! I sought again thy speaking eye. 
But thou wast gone, — Thefe was iiauglit left with 

me; 
The stars shone coldly in the clear blue sky| 
The lonely night-wind, murmuring, past by. 



BND, 



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jh|lkJ{Bkrf|t |^ |i|lWyiWl(.. j|l^jri^ J 

LYRICS 



BY 



^•6 



WEMAm H* ^Al^JPAIT 



Why sliould I sigh wiien sorrow's cloud. 
Gathering, obscures life's little day ! — 



PHILADELPHIA, 
H. C. C-REY ^' /. LE.i, 

H. C. Carey & Co, Broadway. 

NEW-YORK. 

dtkinson and Mexander, Frinters, 
.Ifc Matiket stkeet, Phil'delpftia. 

1832. 



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